The Demon of the Galactic World
by IAmSecretlyNotRonnie300Fan91
Summary: Dâgalûr, the most powerful of the Orcs of Mordor, was ripped from his homeland. Stuck in a galaxy ruled by several nations, divided yet united against a common foe, he joined the crew of The Normandy, under Commander Jane Shepard, and went on a quest to save this new, strange universe and crack some skulls along the way. (CURRENTLY REWORKING STORY, SIGNIFICANT CHANGES BEING MADE)
1. Prologue: From the Domain of Shadow

**Author's Note:** Hey, everybody, name's IAmSecretlyNotRonnie300Fan91 (SPOILER: I actually am). I've been working on refining this story for a while, but never had the guts to publish it here. I finally built up the courage to publish it here, and, well, here it is. This is my first story, so constructive criticism that will allow me to strengthen my writing is welcome and appreciated, but flames and pure hate reviews will not be tolerated. This story begins during Shepard's first visit to the Citadel in Mass Effect 1, and directly before the Ringwraiths depart from Minas Morgul. I plan on writing another fic that will serve as a backstory for Dâgalûr, our protagonist/anti-hero, but that won't be released until I reach the end of the events of Mass Effect 2 in this fic, as to avoid massive spoilers (even the first chapter of my planned origin story would completely spoil this fic). Also, this fic is rated M for a reason. Expect copious amounts of blood/gore and a good amount of cursing, ranging from mild to severe (f-bombs will be dropped casually at times). I am not responsible for anybody's reaction to the cruelty and indecency shown in this story. There will be romantic encounters, but most of the smut will be included only in special edited versions of chapters that will not be posted here because Fiction-MA isn't permitted on this site. You've been warned. You didn't come to read my ramblings, so let us begin this journey.

 _ **NOTES:**_ Some elements from various video game adaptations of _The Lord of the Rings_ (Namely _Middle Earth: Shadow of Mordor, Middle Earth: Shadow of_ _War_ (for which there will be **MAJOR** spoilers), _War In The North, The Third Age,_ and _The_ _Battle For Middle Earth II_ ) are going to be taken as canonical, along with various references to other universes/IPs and various things I made up to fill in the blanks left behind by Tolkien. This fic will primarily use the Peter Jackson film trilogy's depiction of the physical appearance of characters and what not, but the event dates given in the Appendices of _The Return of the King_ will be the dates of the events that occur in Middle-Earth in this fic, and things from the book that weren't included in the films (such as Tom Bombadil and Dol Amroth) will also be referenced or used. I attempted to make this story as canonically faithful to both _The Lord of the Rings_ and the _Mass Effect_ trilogy, but it is not canon for obvious reasons. Dâgalûr and all other OCs that will appear in this story belong to me unless stated otherwise, Middle-Earth and _LOTR_ belong to J.R.R Tolkien and his estate, The _LOTR_ video game license belongs to WB Games, and _Mass Effect_ belongs to Bioware.

Also, I know that Black Uruks weren't around in 1451 TA, but for the purposes of this story, they appear sooner but aren't actually used by Sauron until 2475 TA.

 **All dialogue, unless the person speaking is equipped with a translator, is automatically spoken in the mother tongue of the speaker unless stated otherwise (I.E Orcs speak Black Speech (For higher-ups and servants of the Eye, represented as normal English)/Westron (for most soldiers, represented as broken, Cockney English), Men of the West speak Westron (with various dialects), Elves speak Sindarin, Quarians speak Khelish, etc.) and is simply translated into English for readers. For the purpose of first contact, English will be a rare offshoot of Westron that exists in Middle-Earth.**

 **NOTE: Until this disclaimer is removed, the story is a broken mess. Read on at your own peril, but I warn you that the quality will be drastically reduced until I'm done reworking and rewriting. I will copy-paste this onto the next chapter when finished with editing.**

* * *

"The world is changed… I feel it in the water… I feel it in the Earth… I smell it in the air… Much that once was is lost. For none now live who remember it." -Galadriel

 _ **The Demon Of The Galactic World**_

"It began with the forging of the great rings. Three were given to the Elves, immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings, seven to the Dwarf lords, great miners and craftsmen of the mountain halls, and nine, nine rings were gifted to the race of Men — who above all else, desire power. For within these rings was bound the strength and will to govern each race. But they were all of them deceived; for another ring was made. In the land of Mordor, in the fires of Mount Doom, the Dark Lord Sauron forged in secret a master ring, to control all others, and into this Ring, he poured his cruelty, his malice, and his will to dominate all life. One Ring to rule them all." -Galadriel

In the beginning, there was nothing. But the Ainur sang the Ainulindalë to create the world. Their beautiful music created Eä, the universe. The song was only intended to create one single universe, but it rippled out into the nothingness. The music traveled beyond the edges of the Void, and its harmony brought life to millions of other universes, each unique in one way or another. The Father took pity upon these universes, blessing each one of them with life, but the Ainur had no knowledge of these universes, only knowing of Eä. The Father made every attempt possible to conceal the existence of these worlds, for fear of the spread of Morgoth's corruption and malevolence, but when sorcerers and apprentices dabble in the arcane arts, the will of The Father, and the workings of the universe- and the many others surrounding it- mean nothing. Dâgalûr, the left hand of the Dark Lord himself, was one such unfortunate soul caught in the crossfire.

An accident in some far-off cult of magic in the East had caused tears in the fabric between universes to open, and one such portal had brought him to a strange new galaxy of different alien races, each with its own culture, achievements, and goals, all pettily squabbling with each other while an ancient evil reared its head. Ripped from his homeland, and with no other options (save jail), He joined the crew of The Normandy SR-1, under Commander Jane Shepard, and embarked on a quest to save this new, strange world from extermination, and hopefully watch his old one burn in the process.

* * *

 _ **Prologue: From The Domain Of Shadow**_

The ash from Mount Doom polluted the air of the tainted landscape, seeping into the plateau's soil and forming thick, dark clouds of smog which blotted the sun's rays. The ever-watching Eye of Sauron looked down upon the barren landscape, its piercing gaze ensuring that nobody entered or escaped from Mordor. The only sounds to be heard were worn bits of metal clanking against metal and inhuman yelps and growls from the pits in the far off distance.

Dâgalûr rode atop Bolgdyr, the once-feared Pack-Leader of Nurnen. He lead a small battalion of the usual lot; sniveling, shrieking orcs from the tribes, men that were either greedy enough or unfortunate enough to come under Sauron's grasp, a feral, frothing warg on a leash here and there, and what not. It was all Dâgalûr had been doing for the last few years. Escort troops at point A to point B, Watch over this, monitor that. It was mind-numbingly boring. It wasn't as if there was an ever-present threat of Mordor being sacked by the Westerners, and he needed to minimize casualties from skirmishes with plunderers. Since the Shadow Wars ended and the tribes united, the only violence to be had was when disputes over plunder occurred.

Dâgalûr yearned for the times he could spread mayhem to the Free Peoples of these lands, but those were few and far apart, much to his dismay. and he was seriously out of shape now; his once strong-as-stone muscle had turned to flab and fat now that he was rarely engaging in physical activity, and stuffing his face with the best food Mordor could offer. Eating had become a pastime more than a necessary part of survival as of late for Dâgalûr, and he occasionally turned to more extreme levels of consumption to attempt to remedy his boredom. Years of training didn't just fly out the window, however, and he was still a force to be feared and reckoned with in combat, even if he got exhausted more often in the heat of battle. The War of Reclamation was still several years away, so he still had time to get back in shape before his body would be fighting and marching day and night. Dâgalûr couldn't wait for Gondor to pay him back for the lives of those he once cared for with the blood of its sons and daughters.

He focused his attention to the task at hand again. "Pick up your feet, you worthless gits! Crack the whips harder before I hang ya from racks 'nd take yer hides as trophies!"

The taskmasters cracked their whips on the backs of the troops much harder, to the point where Dâgalûr could've sworn he heard the snapping and cracking of bones. Blood was dripping down the backs of those unfortunate enough to not have adequate back-plates, indicating the taskmasters were doing their jobs a little too well. Nevertheless, the pace of the troops accelerated to a fast walk as they attempted to evade and escape the lashes. The camp wasn't too far away, but it seemed like it would take an eternity for those being flogged to near-death.

Some of the more rebellious among the rabble began to instinctively speak out against Dâgalûr, despite knowing their punishment would increase tenfold.  
"Woi's it dat we's gotta suffa woile yer fat arse gets ter push us 'round? You's ain't even a real orc!" cried a sniveling, pus-yellow runt.

"Yeah, right, 'e's right! Roight! I'm bloody well not takin' dis shite from yer!" yelled an unsightly brown Uruk.

One of his own taskmasters was the next to attack him verbally. "They's got a point! Oi! You's so chummy wiv Sauron, right, but you's nuffink more than a 'og in armor. If we kill yer, we're bound ter 'ave yer place by 'is side!"

That little outburst was nothing short of mutiny. Dâgalûr swiftly dismounted Bolgdyr, his boots crunching the pebbles underneath. He shoved his way past many a man and orc before he reached the orcs who foolishly opened their gobs. He may have been heavy, but he was no pushover.  
"OI! LEMME SHOW'S YA 'OW I CLIMBED ME WAY UP TER DA TOP!" He screamed, tackling the smallest among them.

A circle formed around the four orcs. The bystanders roared with glee as they watched the carnage unfold. The taskmaster jumped up on Dâgalûr's back, and tried to dig his claws into Dâgalûr's throat while he focused on the small one, but he responded to this by falling backwards, crushing the bones of the taskmaster with a sickening crunch. A 300-pound half-uruk in a 100-pound suit of armor was no match for the frail frame of the orc, and he choked and sputtered on his own blood, his windpipe damaged beyond repair. The crowd dragged his body into the fray, and tore into his flesh while he let out wheezy shrieks.

The Uruk took the opportunity to kick Dâgalûr while he was on the ground, causing him to vomit, but broke his toes by doing so. He yelped in pain, clenching his foot, and Dâgalûr rose, wiping the spittle from his mouth. He growled, drew a small dagger from his belt, and dashed towards the Uruk, who blocked the stab with his spear just in time. The small Orc ran up to Dâgalûr while he was distracted and slammed a mace into his leg, sending him to the ground once more.

"Not so 'igh and moighty now, are yer, git?" the orc said.

The orc was cut off by a sweeping kick by Dâgalûr. He fell to the ground and his head connected with a large rock, opening up an unsightly wound. The Uruk went in for vengeance while Dâgalûr dealt with the orc, but was swiftly taken down to the ground with a punch to the temple as Dâgalûr turned around. Black, viscous blood began to leak from his nose as he stumbled about in a haze. Dâgalûr took the opportunity to grab the orc's head and continuously slam it into the rock until nothing but a pulpy mixture of blood, brain matter, cartilage, and skull bits remained. The crowd quickly swarmed the carcass and began to dig in, just as they had with the taskmaster's remains.

"Two down, one more ter go."

The Uruk was unable to recover fast enough before he felt Dâgalûr's clawed gauntlets digging into his stomach. His vision was blurred, but he could feel an excruciating pain coming from his midsection as something wet and slippery gripped around his neck. Soon enough he realized he was being strangled with his own intestines. The light began to drain out of his eyes as the Uruk drew his last breaths, his remains left by the crowd for the Morgul Bats and crows to pick apart.

"Oi!," Dâgalûr began to huff and puff from exhaustion. "get a move on, ladz! One rabble ain't gon ter meen you's all gets a break!"

He remounted Bolgdyr and began to catch his breath, taking a flask from another Uruk as he reached for the reins. He opened it up and inspected its contents. The putred smell could only be one thing: grog. Dâgalûr took a few swigs from the flask before tossing it back to the Uruk. He felt somewhat rejuvenated from the drink, but it would not heal his leg injury, the claw marks on his throat, and the many bruises from his falls.

The battalion continued their march as the taskmasters became increasingly unforgiving with their duty. By the time the unit reached the camp, a trail of tar-like blood had been left behind, and it stretched several yards back. Those unlucky enough to be struck multiple times had lost so much blood that they could barely stand, most collapsing from exhaustion. It seeped through their armor and stained their crude cloth shirts with a deep black hue. A few casualties was nothing to Dâgalûr. Death and injury were simply as much a part of life in Mordor as sharp, pointy objects and freezing cold ash-winds were. The job was done, and that's what mattered. Orcs were being produced in the vats by the hundreds every day, a few dead ones wouldn't cripple their numbers.

Dâgalûr no longer had remorse or compassion for most who dwelled in Middle-Earth. Everything and everyone he'd ever loved had been taken from him long ago, and his behavior since then had teetered on sociopathy. His shattered conscience took a back seat to the only thing he cared about now, and that was _vengeance_. He would do anything or kill anyone to get it, even those he considered to be the few true friends he had. He was the son of slain parents, the husband to a murdered wife, a father to three butchered children, and the master of a slaughtered apprentice. Not one of them had done anything to deserve such a fate their entire lives, so there was _no_ reason whatsoever that they were either left lying in pools of their own blood or hung from gibbets. Dâgalûr had done some fairly despicable things up to that point himself, but that didn't justify _their_ deaths. Gondor had just waltzed in, called for a crusade to take back what they claimed to be their lands, razed the quaint little village Dâgalûr and his wife had settled down in, and raped and massacred everyone who resisted them even slightly.

The worst thing about it was that he was not even close to being the only victim; that had happened repeatedly in villages and towns that bordered Gondorian territory at various intervals over the last few hundred years or so. He had found his apprentice as an infant in the aftermath of one such raid while scouring the rubble for supplies. Crusade after crusade had been called upon by the corrupt and rotten Stewards throughout the years, though a large chunk of the Gondorian Armed Forces opposed the raiding and sacking (Unless it was _Orc_ settlements in question, then there was no hesitation from any of them, down to the last imp). Dâgalûr didn't care, however; they were still to be held accountable for their peers committing such atrocities regardless of whether they wanted to commit them or not.

Dâgalûr's blood boiled at the thought that the Kingdom of Gondor were commonly held up as altruistic by the other cultures of Middle-Earth, when in reality they were nothing more than a band of bloodthirsty tyrants posing as paragons. " _History is written by the victors, and the victors will write the truth about Gondor._ " was a thought that he commonly recited in his head, often several times a week. Once Gondor was absolutely annihilated, its cities razed to smoldering heaps of ashes, its people slaughtered in droves, its women violated to the fullest extent of indecency and perversion, its children worked to death and devoured by wargs, and its legacy purged from history and memory, he would finally be at peace.

Mordor wasn't much better, but it was still better. At least _they_ had shown him some grudging respect once he had climbed to the top. He was the third-in-command of all of Mordor, the Marshall of the Hosts and Supreme General of the Orcish hordes, and was only behind the Witch-King of Angmar and Sauron himself in terms of the influence and power he held. Although he was considered 2nd Lieutenant of the Tower of Barad-Dûr, thus technically being lower in standing than the Mouth of Sauron, that disgusting, foul-mouthed excuse for an ambassador held no sway with the hundreds, if not thousands, of Legions and Hosts under the Great Eye.

Dâgalûr was the "left hand" of Mordor, and he greatly enjoyed some of the perks that came with that position, namely all the food he could eat, some of the finest weapons and armor available in all of Middle-Earth ( _especially_ when compared to that crudely sewn leather and cast iron garbage that the footsloggers wore), and a ticket to be spared from the coming darkness that would blanket all of Middle-Earth, but he didn't truly care about Mordor, or Sauron's plight.

The only civilization that he truly admired in this world were the legendary hobbits, known to most orcs only in tales coming from the Goblins of the north. Though such Goblin stories made them out to be either easy meals or ferocious, orc-hating monsters, he knew the truth. Before arriving in Mordor, he often spent whatever free time he had at Haradric libraries, and such unbiased accounts told of small, hairy footed folk that lived in a rolling green country. They were said to be fond of food, drink, pipe weed, and comfort. Despite such a lifestyle (as with any other that didn't involve excessive bloodshed) being considered vile and cowardly in orcish society, Dâgalûr was only half-orc, and his mannish blood and way of thinking, although mostly absent from him now, found contentment with such a lifestyle.

Before his thirst for Gondorian blood poisoned his mind, he always rambled to his wife about taking her and the children to such a place. No violence, or war, or fear of annihilation or persecution were to be found, just a peaceful, honest life. Dâgalûr often pondered about what would have happened if he had the chance to leave before their deaths. He would trade his sword in for a trowel and plow, his strength of arm would be used to till the soil instead of cleave through armor, and he would earn his coin by selling his harvest at the market instead of offering his service as a sell-sword. He would dwell in no fortress, city, or tower, but in a cottage in the green hills, and he would spend his earnings on delicacies not to be found in Mordor, such as mouth watering pies, fine breads, and farm-fresh eggs, and the finest Westman's Weed. He was fond of such weed, often finding and claiming it from subordinates after caravan raids, and he one day hoped to get his hands on the finest varieties, like Longbottom Leaf or Old Toby. Such plans were cancelled after Dâgalûr lost his family, and the idea of leading a farmer's life became laughable to him. He transformed into a miserable wretch, drowning out his sorrow at pubs, selling himself out as a mercenary or pirate and waiting for the day he would set Minas Tirith ablaze.

He had devised two different plans for what he'd do when he'd gotten what he'd worked for: The first was to step down from his position and most likely end his suffering, and the second was to gather the support and loyalty of as many orcish swords as he could along the way and stage a coup against Sauron, marching on Barad-Dûr as soon as Minas Tirith was set ablaze. It had been done once by the Bright Lord, and it could be done again. Dâgalûr already held the absolute loyalty and devotion of tens of thousands of soldiers (from mindless cannon fodder to some of the most powerful Warchiefs, Overlords, and generals in Mordor), and was almost as charismatic and fear-inducing as Sauron was. Either way, the second plan would give him what he wanted, other than revenge; if he succeeded, he would gain absolute rulership over Mordor, and if he failed, he would be killed by Sauron, thus freeing him from his torment. Sauron was never a front-line fighter unless forced into it, and without his ring, he was far too vulnerable to risk a one-on-one duel.

Sauron, although a truly gifted and blessed craftsman and smith, was a deceitful, manipulative trickster, and his soldiers and minions were nothing more than puppets to him, but Dâgalûr was able to see through such disregard for others because Mordor sought to eradicate Gondor, and Dâgalûr was a firm believer in the saying 'The enemy of my enemy is my ally'. He didn't care if he was serving under a liar. He saw through the lies, and had worked, fought, and killed his way to the top, and had slowly gained Lord Sauron's favor along the way, even if he was only viewed as a simple instrument to be used against his enemies.

Many orc leaders detested him, the reason varying from captain to captain, from warchief to warchief, and so on. One reason was that he had chosen the promise of power over his own race. Instead of focusing on the history, rituals, and art of his people (however crude and simplistic), Dâgalûr had cast aside the ways of old and become caught up in pushing the war machine and reducing orcs into cannon fodder and pawns, abandoning the traditions and culture of the tribes. He was the most powerful orc in Mordor, yet had forgotten what had made him an orc.

Others fueled their hatred with racism towards the race of men, pointing out his white, blotched skin. His only directly visible distinctions from the average human were the upward slants his alae took in an attempt to resemble a more Orcish, piglike snout, and the small, outlying blotches of dark, leathery skin that painted his body, the most distinct of which being one that covered the left part of his face and forehead, and the yellowed discoloration of the sclera of that eye. 'Halftark-filth' and 'Pinkskin' they would call him.

His mannish appearance was a curse bestowed upon him by his father's lineage. His father's father was a Gondorian, and Dâgalûr was not pleased about it. That same lineage which cursed both him and his father was ultimately his father's downfall, as well. Dâgalûr could still remember the harsh words of his grandfather, a monstrous, hateful man who detested Dâgalûr with all his being. The curses and insults he spewed out about Dâgalûr often haunted him as he thought of the hatred he held for Gondor. The noises of his mother's shrieks and wails as she watched her only child escape from a fate she would soon meet drove a knife through Dâgalûr's now twisted, blackened heart.

* * *

The year was 1451 of the Third Age. Gondor was still ashamed of what had become of the sons and supporters of Castamir the Usurper and the Gondorian fleet three years prior. Castamir's grisly and cruel rulership had been ended by the true king, Eldacar. His cold, iron grip on the hearts of the Gondorian military and navy had not subsided, and his fleet had taken him southwards to the coastlines of Umbar, which the secessionists took with relative ease.

Most of the sons of Gondor had finally relinquished their foul ways, but a good chunk of the people, be they common folk, noblemen, or soldiers, still held on to the values of Castamir, but mostly kept to themselves. One such "nobleman", if he could be called such, was Hirgon the Wise, but contrary to his title, he was not wise whatsoever; in fact, he was a cruel, heartless, xenophobic bastard in they eyes of most. He absolutely detested the other races of Middle-Earth, _especially_ orcs, and showed no signs of willing co-operation with other kingdoms of men, not even Rohan, Gondor's long-standing ally.

The people would call him tyrannical, but they knew nothing of the true hatred he expressed beyond the public eye. His son, Sufyan, was the product of a night of drunken love with a Haradrim concubine in the empire's capital of Korondaj, and he was the hidden shame of Hirgon. As soon as he found out about the whore's pregnancy, he fled the city as soon as he could, fearing the wrath of the Sultan, and not wanting the "sand-eater", as he called it, as a son. His "parting gift" to the boy was his white skin, and that would cripple the child's efforts later in life when it came to finding a place in the society of dark skinned southrons. Hirgon kept the existence of his son a secret to all he encountered, and believed he could bring no further shame to Hirgon's name.

That all changed when he discovered Haradric legal documents concerning the foul union between a man of Sufyan's description and a Black Uruk hailing from Mordor. Although at first expressing apathy with hints of disgust, he thought nothing of it, having disowned his son long ago. The life of a Southron mattered not to Hirgon.

Upon further investigation, Hirgon had found that his boy had tainted his manhood by making love with such a beast. He didn't know how the Black Uruk had reached Korondaj, or what she was doing there, but he cared not. A marriage was one thing, but intercourse between man and orc was sinful and worthy of capital punishment to Hirgon. His son had allowed that filth into his life, and, to add salt to the gaping wound, had been raising a half-blood abomination with her for over seven years in secret. Hirgon was not pleased, to say the least.

He was a frail, old man, and could not personally deal with Sufyan himself, but he was deceptive, and his word (and pockets) held some weight among the unofficially recognized militias that had sprung up after the civil war. That word, combined with a fair bit of gold and some forged wanted posters painting Sufyan as a war criminal, was enough to convince a small band of troops that were camped out by the border of Ithilien and Harad to do as he pleased. He ordered that they capture his despicable son and his lover, and to slaughter the monster that they had concocted on sight.

The journey to Korondaj was not an easy one, fraught with burning sands, the heat of the Sun, sandstorms, and all manner of dangerous creature, but most of the men found the strength to pull through. After twenty-four days of marching, and many considerations of abandoning their assignment, they finally reached their destination. As the troops reached the city, their eyes were assaulted by the dozens of palaces, their external walls forged from sandstone and mortar, towering over the city. Most bore large banners of crimson, each with Haradric lettering and a black, slithering serpent, or domed roofs of jade, gleaming in the desert sun.

At the gates, dozens of camel-pulled caravans entered and exited the city. Each wagon carried an assortment of luxurious goods, ranging from salt found in abundance in the deserts, to silk making its way from the Far East of Rhûn. Such commodities had only been heard of by Gondorians in legends told by travellers passing through, so naturally, the troops were dumbfounded at the very sight of the riches. They were ever so tempted to return to the city when they had finished to spend Hirgon's payment on such lavish gifts. With their newfound motivation, they marched up to the gates, only to be halted by guardsmen clad in wicker and lamellar armor.

Although reluctant, and after more than a fair bit of arguing about the ramifications of allowing foreign soldiers into the city to capture civilians (even if they were criminals), they opened the city to Gondorians. It was in their best interest to keep the peace, however wavering or uneasy. Harboring a fugitive would only be detrimental to their relations. However, the men would not manage to progress to the housing districts without a fight; they had to push back against the jeering crowd of citizens that had formed in the market district and refused to allow Gondorian pigs into their sacred capital. The sultans of past and present had instilled a bitter resentment of the Northmen in his people, telling them that they were an affront to Ru'Hal, and a menace to civilization.

* * *

Sufyan stood outside of his quaint little mud-brick residency, and peered out into the bustling, yelling crowd. He could see the flags of the White Tree whirling about, trying to stay afloat in a sea of men, and his eyes widened. He had been raised his entire life to both hate and fear Gondor, and knew that they weren't here on peaceful terms.

Word had quickly spread around the city that Hirgon, a tyrannical councilman from Minas Tirith, had sent a battalion of troops to collect a man who had been on the run from Gondor, and such word reached Sufyan's ears quickly. They described the man's deeds with an Orc, and Sufyan knew that he was the only one in Korondaj that fit that description, as his wife was the only Orc in the city. Although the accounts described a triple murder, and he knew he was no criminal, he knew how easy it was to fabricate a story, and how easily people will believe it. He knew he had to escort his beloved wife and his dearest son out of the city for their own safety, but he didn't know how he could get past the Gondorians unnoticed.

He had hatched a plan prior to this day in the event of a siege, in which he would escape using the ancient, crumbling pathway that hugged the eastern wall; it was virtually unused by guardsmen, contained plenty of hiding spaces and abandoned shacks, and led to a small hole in the wall that could be used as an escape route. After that, he planned on stealing a horse or a camel from the stables near the front gate, and using it to ride as far away from the city as possible. He hadn't planned what to do afterwards, but the safety of his family would have to come first.

Sufyan rushed back inside, trying not to draw attention to himself. He grabbed a large piece of tattered cloth, and placed upon it four loaves of bread, a large, clay flagon of water that was corked shut, a medium sized coin purse containing his family's savings, and a small, graven idol of Morgoth, which had become one of Dâgalûr's toys.

He swiftly tied the corners of the cloth together to form a makeshift knapsack, and tied it once more around his waist. He also reached for one of the steel scimitars mounted over their cooking pit, and sheathed it by placing it in the ring-like extension on the side of his belt, and tightening it. After he finished packing up, he hurried over to Tormatum, who had taken a nap on the small, woven mat on the floor, Dâgalûr nuzzling up to her, and quickly awoke her.

"Tormatum, quickly!" He whispered, hoping she would be quick to respond.

She muttered and growled, slowly rolling over to meet Sufyan's face. It took her a moment to open her amber eyes, but she was awake.

"Wha' is it? I'm tryin' to get the boy ta' sleep!"

"We need to get out of here."

"Wha's wrong?" Tormatum was getting concerned now. She had confided in Sufyan when they had performed their mating ritual. He knew how she felt about practical jokes, ESPECIALLY ones that woke her from her slumber.

"The Incárii are here!"

Tormatum had taken the time to undergo lessons in Haradric in order to better understand her beloved mate, but there were still some words that she did not know the meaning of.

"Th' what?"

"The Incárii! Come, look for yourself!"

She quickly pushed herself up, careful not to wake her offspring, and pulled back the decorative tarp draped over the doorway. Lo and behold, she spotted the banner of Gondor waving in the arid winds.

She had been taught from birth, back when the Black Uruks were nothing more than a tribe of savages and not the sprawling primitive empire that had swept across Gorgoroth, that the Men of the West were vermin in need of extermination. The Men of the East and South were considered unclean, but were generally considered to be allies among orcs.

The disdain for the Southrons was what made Tormatum flee from her people's grasp once she had found the One, her mate for life. The tribe forbade union between an orc and a non-orc, but there was something about Sufyan that made it impossible for her to obey tribal law. Sufyan would've never anticipated falling for an orc, but to him, Tormatum was more beautiful than any of the women that passed by the forge. Her wide hips, slender face, and muscular build were unlike anything he'd ever seen on a woman, and he _liked_ it.

She had come hailing from Mordor, and, being a great shield-maiden, was in search of exotic weaponry. Sufyan was only the apprentice to the smith at the time, but knew much about the killing power of weapons; his free time was often spent using his craft to hack into goat and pig carcasses he purchased from various butcher's stalls, as it helped him vent his frustration about being mocked for being of Gondorian blood.

After mustering his courage, he asked Tormatum to accompany him to one of his sessions, to which she reluctantly accepted. The sessions quickly became a regular occurrence, with Tormatum testing out her new purchases, being a regular customer. Sufyan, who was in the process of cracking away her gruff exterior to find a harsh yet caring personality underneath, often made jokes about the fact that she was twice as strong as him, often being able to cleave through the ribcage of a pig in one swing.

After a few months of Sufyan's sessions, he finally became the chief blacksmith, upon retirement of his master. Being one of many smiths in Korondaj, he knew he wouldn't be making as much coin as he'd like. However, he extended an offer to Tormatum to become his assistant, which she gladly accepted. The two had become outstanding friends, and within a month, the two had decided that they were interested in each other, quickly getting betrothed and conceiving their son, who put up quite a fight inside his mother's womb. Tormatum had taken what little possessions she owned with her, and, upon knowing she would never return to Mordor, moved in with Sufyan.

Regardless, that was not of any relevance to the issues currently at hand. Tormatum was a fighter, not a coward. If something threatened her child, she would destroy it, not run. In a bold move, she drew a massive axe, which bore the symbol of the Serpent, from her back, and pushed the crowd away.

The first row of soldiers drew their spears and raised their shields, but the axe of a furious, protective mother Uruk was upon them. The axe lodged itself in one of the soldier's arms, and the formation broke up. Tormatum unsheathed a broadsword from her hip, and began slashing and violently flailing at the now vulnerable soldiers. City guards saw this as a time to get even with the Gondorians for past atrocities under kings such as Ciryandil, and started stabbing and thrusting their weapons wildly at the men. Tormatum fought valiantly, but was felled when a spear entered her throat. Her last moments within the circles of the world were spent with tears running down her face from her belief that she had failed as a parent to defend her child.

Sufyan took this opportunity to run with Dâgalûr, sticking to his original plan. The two of them followed the eastern wall, passing through the housing and royal districts of the city. Thankfully, neither of them had spotted one of their captors, and eventually reached the hole in the back of the wall.

"Where is mama?" Dâgalûr said, worried.

His father knew that she had almost certainly sacrificed himself to allow for their escape. "Son, we have to keep moving. We have to leave"

"But we cannot go without mama!"

"She will met us there!" Sufyan said, lying through his teeth. He took no pride in doing so, but they had to get out quickly.

They made a break for the main gates, and successfully reached the stables. Sufyan quickly put Dâgalûr up on the nearest camel, and placed his makeshift knapsack on Dâgalûr's lap. As soon as Sufyan tried to mount the beast, he tackled to the ground by a straggler, who got a good hold around him.

Before he was dragged away from his now teary eyed son, he flailed, kicked, and screamed in a futile attempt to escape.

"My boy! Grab the reins! Get out of here before more come!"

Dâgalûr quickly heeded his father's words, and took off into the desert with haste. At this point, he was silently weeping, tears running down his chin. He looked back, and more and more of the men in shining armor came out of the city.

The city drifted farther and farther away, but the grief closed in. His father shouted from afar, "I LOVE YOU!", but was swiftly cut off by the cheers and appraisals from his captors.

Dâgalûr, now alone in the vast world ahead of him, was driven into hiding, as his grandfather had ordered for his capture. He saw his grandson as nothing more than a disease to be purged from the world; that very same blight that he hoped to cleanse would come back two years later and smother him while he slept. No matter whether the denizens of the world respected him, feared him, or detested him, he hated most of them so goddamn much. He would gladly rip and tear through them all just to get one more chance to see his family.

* * *

Dâgalûr was too wrapped up in his thoughts to notice that someone was trying to gain his attention. It was one of his lieutenants, a bloated, fat orc with heavy facial scarring, leaving him with no visible nose. He held a long, metal staff, the end of which bore a vibrant red cast of the Great Eye. Laga was his name, and he was chiefest of the sorcerers that followed Dâgalûr.

"BOSS! Listen!"

Dâgalûr snapped out of it, giving Laga a dreadful scowl. "What in tha' hell do you want?"

"Ya need tuh see this." the lieutenant said, as he pointed something about a mile out in the distance.

The only visible feature on the object he was pointing to was a blinding white light radiating from it, as if Varda herself had called down a star from the heavens and it had crashed down into the earth. Smoke and dust clouded Dâgalûr's ability to get a good look at the rest of whatever it was.

"Look, master, over there. Wha' is that? Sum Elvish trickery been slippin' inta 'ere?"

"I dunno, lad, but I'm goin' in alone to check it out. If I'm not back before nightfall, consider me dead." Dâgalûr said.

He kicked Bolgdyr in the sides and tugged at the reins, and the great and terrible caragor set off for the object.

The ride was bumpy, as the ground was littered with stones and thorn bushes that Bolgdyr was forced to navigate around, but the two reached the source of the light fairly quickly. The object in question was a rift of some sorts, several feet tall. A gloriously bright light was shining from it. Dâgalûr had stopped a few feet away from it, and dismounted. He was absolutely dumbfounded and awestruck.

He'd never gazed upon anything even remotely close to it in all his years. He had used pyromancy and the like before, but no such wizardry or Elven magic had ever been seen within these mountainous borders. Perhaps it was the result of the experiments by some cult far beyond the Eastern Desolation, or creatures from the stars. Bolgdyr quickly retreated as far away as his paws could carry him, but Dâgalûr didn't even notice the cowardice his steed had demonstrated, as he was too caught up in whatever phenomenon lay before him. He slowly approached it from the rear, only to find it identical to its front.

Dâgalûr contemplated what would happen if he touched it. _"Will I die? Bah, I got nuffin' left to lose. But will I ever come back? Where would I go?_ " These thoughts ran through his head, and he concluded, _"I dun' care about this place. Maybe, if I'm lucky, It'll kill me 'nd take tha world with it!"_ Not knowing what to expect at all, he put his open hand up to it, immediately being enveloped within the second he made contact.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** For those of you reading from June 5th, 2018 and onwards, this chapter has been significantly reworked and updated, but it still retains the events of the original Prologue. It might conflict with what's happening in the first 9 chapters, but those are each being reworked in order to provide better dialogue, more realistic interactions between characters, and an overall better reading experience. It's not like I'm just going to continue and say "It's my story, if you don't like it, then don't read it." I actually want other people to enjoy my story. I want everyone to be able to read this and at least leave thinking "Hey, that wasn't half bad." Until the next update, everyone. Whenever it may be.


	2. Chapter 1: To the Center of The Galaxy

**Author's Note:** This chapter is being published simultaneously with the prologue, so any issues from there might also be prevalent here.

Oruchack- An Orcish drug used to improve performance in battle, but makes the user jittery and jumpy, much like a caffeine or sugar rush. I literally just pulled it out of nowhere.

Tolkien still owns LOTR and Bioware still owns Mass Effect.

 _ **Chapter One: You're At C-Sec Now**_

The second he was engulfed in the purple void, Dâgalûr was transported into a realm with almost no gravity, and began to feel strange tingling sensations across his body that were like nothing he'd ever felt before. It dragged on, however, for what felt like an eternity. Seconds began to feel like hours, and he got used to the tingles. The only thing in sight was the color purple. Then, with a loud, screech-like noise and a bright flash, Dâgalûr was forced out out of the portal and on to the ground.

What he saw around him confused and, to an extent, even frightened him. He knew that he was in an alley of some sorts, but this looked like something far beyond the technical comprehension of the world of Eä. Everything was chrome, and there were storage crates piled around him. He came out of the small alleyway to see what he believed to be some sort of social area, but he did not at all understand what he saw: the entire area was lit up with every color imaginable, and the whole scene was futuristic, with life forms Dâgalûr could never have imagined. He wondered who had used the Flame Imperishable to create such nightmarish beings compared to him, which spoke volumes considering he was half an Orc, and had seen unspeakable horrors being birthed in the underground pits of Gorgoroth.

There were the average humans, which he already knew plenty about (considering around a full half of him was one), albeit they wore confusing garbs and accessories, unlike any in Middle-Earth, but he also saw what appeared to be blue skinned women with tentacles for hair, amphibians who moved and spoke like they had been pumped full of Oruchack, reptilians with a very short temper (whom Dâgalûr seemed to take a liking to the most, as their ferocity was only second to his own), large gorilla-like beings with squid-like faces, insectoids with four outgoing legs, small and stout beings with some sort of bio-suit on, and bird demons with fringes and mandibles, many of whom seemed to be the enforcers in this strange new world.

As he wandered around, received several strange looks for his armor, and gave out just as many for their garments. He wandered the area aimlessly like a lost child.

"Nice costume. First time here?", one of the demon birds asked him. This particular demon bird seemed to be a police officer, which was a fairly unexplained concept to Dâgalûr, as Orc rabbles didn't need constant policing, only a good whipping to shut them up or break up a rumble. To Dâgalûr, the faces of these bird demons were uglier than even those of the hell-hawks patrolling Udûn's skies. He replied, "It's not a costume, and yes." "Then what is it?" "One-hundred percent authentic black steel armor" "Gotta say, it looks nice, but you seriously stick out." "This is commonplace where I come from, but why did you ask if this was my first time here?" "Because you were wandering around aimlessly and because nobody, not even in the Wards, wears armor like that" "What's the big deal if it's my first time, though?" "Because you can just go ahead and use that terminal over there. It'll give you all the information you need about the Citadel, .", the bird-demon-thing said, pointing to something Dâgalûr did not understand.

Well at least he knew where he was now, but the name "Citadel" confused him, as he knew this was no citadel built for a fortress. "Alright, thanks." "No problem."

As he went over to the console (or what he believed it was, from what the bird demon had pointed to), he pressed a button, and an entity resembling one of the blue-skinned women suddenly appeared, spooking him. "Hello, and welcome to the Citadel. My name is Avina, and I am the Citadel's VI system. I may answer any question you may have." the hologram said. He muttered under his breath, "What sorcery is this?" before finally saying aloud, "A VI? What's that? And what exactly is this place? And what are these... these monsters walking all around me?"

Dâgalûr replied, hoping to get some answers about what in the name of Morgoth was going on. "A VI is a Virtual Intelligence. I am programmed to help citizens learn more about the Citadel, a massive space station built by Protheans over 50,000 years ago. You are currently in the Citadel Wards, within proximity of the Markets and Med Bay, with the Chora's Den bar being not too far away. Current resident species on the station include humans, asari, turians, salarians, krogan, hanar, elcor, volus, and quarians."

That had answered most of his questions: he was on a colossal space station, with aliens and advanced technology. He got a little more information about the station and its inhabitants, then concluded with his final question, "What year and age is it?" Avina replied, "The year is 2183 of the Common Era." Well, he knew this was most likely thousands of years after his time, as well. "Goodbye, Avina." "Goodbye. Logging off." And with that, she was gone.

Dâgalûr wandered the area until he found the Chora's Den bar that Avina had mentioned. He entered to see a scene of asari, one of the races he was informed of, dancing on tables. He walked up to the bar to be greeted by a turian, another of the several races he got info on, who he stopped calling "bird-demons". "What'll it be for you?" the bartender asks. "Got any Mordor grog?"

"The only grog you'll find in this galaxy is the stuff on Earth." This dissatisfied Dâgalûr, so he just asked for some of the strongest stuff he had. The bartender pulled out a large vial of bluish liquid. "Got some uncut Batarian ale. Don't ask how I got this." Dâgalûr chugged it like it was nothing more than water. "Not strong enough. What else you got?" "How bout this?" He pulled out another vial, this one containing a green, viscous liquid. "Called Ryncol, krogan liquor, volatile stuff really, only krogan can really handle this". Dâgalûr knew he had to have it. "C'mon, pour me it." "I've never seen a human stomach this. Your funeral, pal." The bartender didn't know that Dâgalûr was no mere human, however. "You don't know who you're talking to.", he said as he chugged it. It burned just like grog did and he loved it, and smelled just as foul, although it tasted like stomach acid.

"That'll be 75 creds, bud." The bartender gestured his hand forward as to say "pay up". Dâgalûr put a small cloth sack on the bar, untied the small rope holding it shut, and dumped its contents out onto the counter, which were several gold coins bearing an eye with a slit in it. "What's this supposed to be? I'm not accepting these coins. Seriously, gimme 75 credits now. Or else." He didn't intimidate Dâgalûr. "Or else what?", he said, reaching for his coins. The bartender gestured for two krogan bouncers to come to him. "Kick his ass." And with that, the krogans pounced him. Dâgalûr grabbed the one on the left and made a swift, powerful headbut that staggered the bouncer. The bouncer on the right grabbed Dâgalûr from behind, which wasn't as smart as the krogan thought it would be, as the grapple was broken with a swift elbow to the gut, which, with the bladed elbow tip of his gauntlet, tore a hole in both the krogan's clothing and skin, causing him to bleed. Before the fight got any worse, two Turian officers from C-Sec came in. "What's going on here?" "This guy tried to get away without paying for his drinks!" Dâgalûr was furious now. "I OFFERED TO PAY, BUT YOU WOULDN'T ACCEPT MY FARE!" he insisted, his voice booming and as loud as a roaring fire. "Look, until this is sorted out, you're ALL under arrest." The officers handcuffed Dâgalûr, the bouncers and the bartender. At the C-Sec Academy a few hours later, the four were released. "Listen, whoever you are, you've got no records here, or any records anywhere for that matter, so this is your first and only warning. Next time, you're staying in jail. Understand?" "Understood." And with that, Dâgalûr was back off to the Wards, completely disregarding what the officer said.


	3. Chapter 2: Recruitment

**Author's** **Note:** He everyone, this is the 3rd published chapter, and I hopefully plan on getting out a chapter every Saturday, but no promises. Anyway, on with the show!

 **BLACK SPEECH TO ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS:** "Za avhe projecavileuk, powas wiavhin!" translates to, "Grab the projectiles, power within!"

 _ **Chapter** **Two: Recruitment**_

Dâgalûr made his way to the elevator that led to the Presidium, before coming across a door to his left. He came to a halt, overhearing a conversation. He took his helmet off, adorned with two large metal spikes on either side, resembling the ends of Uruk scimitars, and a general's horizontal crest, and put his ear to the door, hoping it wouldn't open and blow his cover.

Dâgalûr distinctly heard a young woman's voice, but it was metallic, like the user was in a robotic suit, but also with some form of Haradrim-like, foreign accent. The other user he could make out to be a male turian, just like that ass who was a bartender. "Did you bring it?" "Where's the Shadow Broker? Where's Fist?" Dâgalûr knew some kind of tradeoff was going on. "They'll be here. Where's the evidence?" "No way. The deal's off."

Dâgalûr couldn't resist anymore, and opened the door. He saw the turian, a young quarian, and two unknown individuals, all in the center of the alley, and a human woman alongside another turian and krogan watching undetected from the other entryway into the alley. The turian in the center took notice of Dâgalûr . "Get lost, bud. I'll blow your brains out otherwise.", drawing the attention of everyone in the alley to Dâgalûr. "Make me.", He replied. The turian fired two rounds from a pistol, aimed for Dâgalûr's chest and head. With his hand stretched outwards, his eyes glowing orange-white, his voice deep and booming, Dâgalûr said, "Z _a avhe projecavileuk, powas wiavhin!_ " Both bullets stopped inches from Dâgalûr's face, and crumpled like aluminum foil when he clenched his fist. He heard mumbling from almost everyone in the alley, ranging from, "I've never seen such biotics in my life", to "What the hell did I just see?" "Shouldn'ta' done that, fool." Dagalur said.

The turian didn't know it, but doing that was a death sentence. The quarian cartwheeled out of the way, and a small explosion went off near the assassins, staggering them. Dâgalûr lept several feet into the air, his torn cape flowing around, and roared a mighty orcish roar, and proceeded to jump on and maul the turian who fired the bullets at him with nothing but the bladed, retractable, claw-like finger-tips of his gauntlets. The woman and her companions, along with the quarian, open fired on the assassins, killing them.

They then watched in horror as the turian's mortal existence was ended when Dâgalûr bit his jugular open with his orc teeth, one of the only things distinguishing him from a normal human, and feasted upon the blue blood. Dâgalûr was now mistrustful of all turians after his experiences with them, but he did not outright hate them. He got to his feet and used his cape as a napkin, as the other four individuals backed up slightly and looked at him with a sense of horror, disgust, confusion, and even a little interest. The quarian turned back to the three. "Fist set me up! I knew I couldn't trust him!" The woman leading the others asked, "Where you hurt in the fight?" "I know how to look after myself, not that I don't appreciate the help. Who are you?" "My name's Shepard. I'm looking for evidence to prove Saren is a traitor." Dâgalûr had no idea of what these people were talking about. "Then I have a chance to repay you for saving my life. But not here. We need to go somewhere safe."

"What about him?" the Krogan pointed out. The four then turned their attention to Dâgalûr, with Shepard piping up, "And you? What the hell was up with all of that? I gotta say, it's the first time I've seen someone eat a corpse, which was pretty disgusting, but your biotics are impressive." "I take it you have no idea who you've just met. Those "biotics" were sorcery, and I assume that if you've never seen anybody eat a corpse before, then you've never seen another of my kin. The name's Dâgalûr, by the way." Dâgalûr extended his hand outward, and Shepard reluctantly shook. "Name's Commander Jane Shepard. Meet Garrus and Wrex." Dâgalûr nodded his head, and the two aliens behind her responded with the same nod. Garrus chimed in, "We could take them both to the Human Embassy. Your ambassador will want to see this anyway." The five began their trek to the Human Embassy.

Along the way the quarian told Dâgalûr, "I also wanted to thank you for saving my life back there along with Shepard, Dâgalûr." She struggled to correctly pronounce his name. "Did I say that right? Anyway, I don't know how I can repay you, however." "You're very much welcome. I just didn't realize that by me wanting to pick a fight, I would unknowingly aid in saving someone's life. No need to repay me. And yes, you did get my name right."

When they arrived, they were met with two humans, who Dâgalûr believed to be politicians. The elder one said, "You're not making my life easy, Shepard. Firefights in the Wards, an all-out assault on Chora's Den, do you know many…" He had turned around and paused, surprised to see them all. "Who are these? A quarian and a man in costume? What are you up to, Shepard?" "Making your day, ambassador. She has information linking Saren to the geth, and he may be the most powerful known being in the galaxy." "Well then, maybe you better start at the beginning, miss…" "My name is Tali. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya." "And mister…" "Name's Dâgalûr, half-Uruk." "Any reason for the armor and the odd name? Don't tell me you're just some man who likes to go around role-playing." "I can assure you I'm not, ambassador. The reason for everything is a long story that nobody has time for right now, but to make it short, sweet, and to the point, I'm not from this world, or galaxy in this case. The first part of my name is in my native tongue, the Black Speech, and the second references the fact that I am half human and half Uruk."

"What in God's name are you talking about? What's an "Uruk"?" "The Uruk are beings formed from malice, hatred, and torture, who are mass-produced from the mud and slime of the ground back in my homeland." "I'm not believing a word coming out of your mouth." To prove him wrong, Dâgalûr conjured up fire, ice, and lightning from his hands in a spectacular display, and let out a mighty roar. "Is that enough proof for you?" "It gives me some proof that you're not just some insane man, but I do have to give you credit that those are some impressive biotics." Dâgalûr muttered under his breath, "'Biotics'? It's magic."

Ambassador Udina redirected his attention to Tali. "Anyway, we don't see many quarians around here. Why did you leave the flotilla?" "I was on my pilgrimage, my rite of passage into adulthood." "I've never heard of this before.", Shepard replied. "It is a tradition among my people. When we reach maturity, we leave the ships our parents and our people behind. Alone, we search the stars, only returning to the flotilla once we have discovered something of value. In this way, we prove ourselves worthy of adulthood."

"What kinds of things do you look for?" "It could be resources, like food or fuel, or some type of useful technology, or even knowledge that will make life easier on the flotilla. Through our pilgrimage, we prove that we will contribute to the community, rather than be a burden on our limited resources." "Tell us what you found." "During my travels I began hearing reports of geth. Since they drove my people into exile, the geth have never ventured beyond the veil. I was curious. I tracked a patrol of geth to an uncharted world, I waited for one to become separated from its unit, then I disabled it and removed its memory core." The younger of the two, who appeared to be decorated with medals, finally spoke up, "I thought the geth fried their memory cores when they died. Some sort of defense mechanism." Shepard asked, "How did you manage to preserve the memory core?" "My people created the geth. If you're quick, careful, and lucky, small caches of data can sometimes be saved. Most of the core was wiped clean, but I salvaged something from its audio banks."

As she said this, she fiddled with an orange holographic item on her arm, which emitted a voice of a turian saying, "Eden Prime was a major victory. The beacon has brought us one step closer to finding the Conduit." "That's Saren's voice! This proves he was involved in the attack!" Shepard spoke up, "He said Eden Prime brought him one step closer to finding 'The Conduit'. Any idea what that means?" "The Conduit must have something to do with the beacon. Maybe it's some kind of Prothean technology; like a weapon." Tali continued, "Wait, there's more. Saren wasn't working alone." She played the recording over again, but after Saren's voice, another voice said, "... And one step closer to the return of the Reapers."

Udina said, "I don't recognise that other voice, the one talking about 'Reapers'." Shepard was confused. "Are they some kind of new alien species?" Tali had some information on them, saying, "According to the memory core, the Reapers were a hyper-advanced machine race that existed 50,000 years ago. The Reapers hunted the Protheans to total extinction, and then they vanished! At least, that's what the geth believe." Udina had to put his two cents in, saying, "Sounds a little farfetched."

"The vision on Eden Prime. I understand it now. I saw the protheans being wiped out by the Reapers." "The geth revere the Reapers as gods, the pinnacle of non-organic life, and they believe Saren knows how to bring the Reapers back." "The Council is just going to love this." Shepard showed genuine concern. "The Reapers are a threat to every species in Citadel Space. We have to tell…" She was cut off by the younger of the two. "No matter what they think about the rest of this, those audio files prove Saren's a traitor!" "The captain's right, we need to present this to the council right away."

Wrex finally said something. "What about her? The quarian? And the half-breed?" "My name is Tali!" "You know my name by now, krogan." "You saw me in the alley, Commander, you know what I can do, let me come with you!" "I thought you were on your pilgrimage." "The pilgrimage proves we are willing to give of ourselves for the greater good. What does it say about me if I turn my back on this? Saren is a danger to the entire galaxy. My pilgrimage can wait." Attention then shifted to Dâgalûr, with a silence only broken by Shepard. "What about you, Dâgalûr? Do you have somewhere you've got to get going?" "Nope, I've got nowhere in this strange place to go. Either way, it sounds like you need every blade you can get. You've seen me in action, Commander. The choice is yours." "I'll take all the help I can get. You're both in." The two both thanked the Commander in their own ways. "Wise decision." "Thanks. You won't regret this."

Udina interrupted again, "Anderson and I will go ahead to get things ready with the Council. Take a few minutes to collect yourself, then meet us in the Tower." With that, the two were off. "Dâgalûr, Wrex, I think it'd be best if you two headed back to our ship, the SSV Normandy SR-1. When you get there, inform Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams that she's to report to me immediately." Dâgalûr was extremely confused, as he thought that she meant that they were using a boat to get around space, but he soon realized that she meant "spaceship", and not "boat". As the two made their way back to the ship, Dâgalûr questioned Wrex. "So, what's your story, Wrex?" "There is no story. It's the same as all krogan." "Listen, krogan, all I learned from that damned computer-thing is the turians and salarians sterilized your people." "That's all there is. Nearly all krogan newborn are stillborn, and most never even make it that far. Would you want to talk about it if it were your species who were sterilized? And, by the way, if you ever call me 'krogan' again, you'll regret being born." "I've eaten bigger rats than you." Dâgalûr let out a low-pitched growl, similar to a big-cat, to the krogan next to him. "Hmm… the fact that you had the guts to keep running your mouth after my threat makes me respect you a little more, little half-breed." "Know that I feel the same way about being called "half-breed" the same way you feel about being called 'krogan'. Also, you saw me stop two bullets and crumple them like paper, so I'd choose your next few words carefully." "True, true. Let's just get going and forget this ever happened."

After a few minutes of walking, the two got in C-Sec's elevator and went up, which slightly unhinged Dâgalûr. The two then found their way to the ship, and boarded it. As they entered the first room, an overhead voice began to say, "Decontamination in progress", as the small room filled with mist and a screen passed over them. Both of them felt uncomfortable during the process, with Wrex just disliking it in general, and Dâgalûr being completely unfamiliar with what was going on.

After that, they walked into a room (the Command Deck) with a large CIC containing a galactic map hologram near the end of it. They descended a flight of stairs and went for another elevator ride, which Dâgalûr was prepared for this time, before coming to a large room with a six-wheeled vehicle in it, boxes stacked everywhere. They were the Engineering and Storage sections of the Normandy, and made themselves at home, with Wrex leaning against the wall to the right, and Dâgalûr leaning against one of the beams supporting the track that the Mako travelled on. In the far back of the room, a woman was standing over some sort of counter, cleaning advanced weapons Dâgalûr could not comprehend. Dâgalûr went over to her and asked, "Are you Ashley Williams?" "Yeah, what's it to you?" "Shepard wants to see you immediately." "Alright, I'm on it."

The Gunnery Chief went off to join the current squad, taking the elevator up. Dâgalûr then proceeded to decorate the beam with Mordor's flag, one of his only keepsakes from home. After an hour of nothing but silence, the only sound being the breathing of Wrex and Dâgalûr, Tali, Ashley, and Garrus made their way down. Tali made herself comfortable in Engineering, Ashley returned to her original position, and Garrus decided to look over the Mako, close to Dâgalûr. Shortly thereafter, a voice, which Dâgalûr knew was Shepard's, spoke over the intercom.

"This is Commander Shepard speaking. We have our orders: find Saren before he finds the Conduit. I won't lie to you, crew. This mission isn't going to be easy. For too long our species has stood apart from the others. Now it's time for us to step up and do our part for the rest of the galaxy. Time to show them what humans are made of! Wherever Saren goes, we'll follow. Wherever he searches for the Conduit, we'll be there. We will hunt him to the very ends of the galaxy and bring him down!" Ashley, Dâgalûr, Garrus, and Wrex all stood around each other and listened as Shepard continued, "Humanity needs to do this. Not just for our own sake, but for the sake of every other species in Citadel Space. Saren must be stopped, and I promise you all… we will stop him!" With that, Shepard's inspirational speech had concluded, and the four went back to what they were doing.


	4. Chapter 3: Getting Accustomed

**Author's Note** : Not much to say here, except I dedicate this story to Adam Connell. Today would've been his birthday. Rest in peace, man.

 **TRANSLATIONS:** Snaga = Slave

Maausan Ukauron udahok gith nalkriuk worukhip naj-ri ve vicavorausan agh powas. Maausan Ukauron'uk enemieukz mat shal ij ukea ro zajar. Maausan Melkor agh Ukauron udahok lat nalkruska lighav aavavackuk. vicavorausan or deevah. Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, Ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul _. =_ May Sauron guide all who worship him to victory and power. May Sauron's enemies die in a sea of fire. May Melkor and Sauron guide you when light attacks. Victory or death. One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, one ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them.

 _ **Chapter Three: Getting Accustomed**_

Following the speech, Shepard made her way down to the Normandy's lower levels to chat with the crew, starting on the second level with Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko, and going down further to chat with Garrus, Wrex, Ashley, and Dâgalûr. The conversation with Garrus seemed to drag on, as if they had no cares in the world, she managed to calm Wrex after provoking him, and her chat with Ashley was short lived. Upon reaching Dâgalûr, who was sharpening his sword, Pauzûlshapât, she sparked a conversation with the warlord. "Hey, Dâgalûr, just trying to.. what are you doing?" "Sharpening my blade, the finest one this side of the Misty Mountains." Anyway, I'm trying to get to know who we picked up for the mission. I've got a few questions I'd like to ask you." "Feel free to, but know that I have the right not to answer any of them." "Of course. My first question is where exactly did you come from? "

"I hail from the land of Mordor, dominion of the shadows." "What system is that planet in, though?" "What?" "Your planet, Mordor, what system is it in, and how did humans get there?" "The name of my planet isn't Mordor, that's the name of the area I'm from. The name of the world itself is Arda. As for what "system" it's in, I couldn't tell you because nobody that I know of studies any form of Astrology, and because I got here through some kind of rift." "THAT explains those dark energy readings they found on the Citadel." "What?" "Oh, nothing. But what's your planet like?" "There are three continents: Middle-Earth, which is where I'm from, the Lands of the Sun to the west of us, and the Dark Lands to the south of us. The Lands of the Sun are too hot to be inhabitable and the Dark Lands were inhabited by Ungoliant, the spider-demon."

"What's your continent like?" "Middle-Earth? Oh, it's got a wide range of climates, from the frigid ice bays in the north, to the scorching deserts and unexplored jungles of Harad in the south." "How did humans get there, though? We never colonized this world." "They are one of the children of Iluvatar, and have thus been in Middle Earth since the beginning." "Anyways, continue." "Mordor itself is a climate divided. The north is freezing from all the ash on the ground and dust polluting the air, and the only heat is from Mount Doom, the volcano, which sends massive clouds of black smoke to blot out the sun. The only fertile area in the region is a large plain in which most of the wildlife in Mordor survives. The south was lush and green because of the inland Sea of Nurnen, but now Orcs have been settling in and using slaves to strip the land and gather food for the growing armies. Now all that remains are the slaves and the beasts in the depths of Nurnen." "Life sounds harsh." "It is. Only the strongest survive day to day life outside the army."

"Who is this army led by?" "Sauron the great, the true ruler of Middle-Earth. I myself am his third-in command, holding greater power than any other Orc or Uruk in all Mordor. I'm only lower than the Witch-King of Angmar, the Lord of the Nine Riders, and Sauron himself. He has been breeding Orcs, Uruks, Wargs, and the mighty Trolls and Olog-Hai in masses for the coming war. He's also managed to sway the Haradrim of the south and the Easterlings of Rhûn into his ranks. When Sauron regains his ring of power from the clutches of the enemy so that he may once again take physical form, these hordes will be unleashed upon the rest of Middle Earth, and none shall resist. If I manage to get that ring for him, I'll hold the power of a god among men, a lion among sheep. When we control the land, we will use it to bargain the freedom of our god, Morgoth." "You and this "Sauron" guy sound like serious devotees if you're both willing to take over an entire continent for your god." "You could say that."

"Is that your people's flag?" She pointed to the torn black cloth hanging from the support beam, which bore the red Eye of Sauron. "It is. It bears the Eye of Sauron, which is the form he's taken until he regains his power." "This all just sounds like some fantasy vid." "What's a "vid"? "It's just a form of entertainment people watch. Most of em' are trash, but there are quite a few good ones."

"My next question is what exactly are you? I know you said you were a hybrid of some sort, but I'd like you to elaborate." Dâgalûr paused for a moment, processing what Shepard just said. "So, you want to know my story, eh?" "If that answers my question." "It started thousands of years ago. The year was 1600 of the Third Age. My mother, Tormatum, was a Lieutenant at the time, and was the only female Black Uruk ever produced. Aye, she was definitely something to look at from what I heard, at least compared to the rest of the lot. My father, Sufyan, was a Haradrim palace guard, but he wasn't respected because of his Gondorian heritage, which gave him white skin."

Dâgalur paused to swallow. "He's the reason I look more human than Orc, with my white skin, my blue eyes, human nose, my full head of hair and this moustache and sideburns, which is the envy of other Orcs. The only things that put me apart from other humans are my grey blood, pointy teeth, and my mindset. I've been raised around humans enough to control my bloodthirsty impulses while still retaining my Orcish nature, and that's the only reason I haven't tried tearing out all of your throats yet, like I did to that turian." "OK….." Shepard backed up a little.

"But hold on, you need to fill me in a bit. Who's Gondor?" "Gondor, feh, they're the enemy, the lot of them, they think it's okay to mercilessly slaughter us Orcs because they're more civilized. Their king, long ago, co-led a resistance of Elves and Men against Sauron. Their King died in the battle, but his son cut off Sauron's hand that he bore his ring on, and without his ring, he cannot take a physical form. The Ring was lost for over two and a half thousand years before a creature named Sméagol, who ended up being corrupted by it and turned into a shell of his former self called Gollum."

"I think I've heard all I need to know about your backstory, but what are you wearing on your face?" She was referring to the Dwarvish-made eyeglasses that Dâgalûr was wearing. "What, these old things? I need them to see because I was nearly blinded by a bright flash of light long ago. Without them, everything is blurry. I stole them off of a Dwarf merchant's corpse on the side of a road."

"Do you have any comments or remarks before I leave?" "I do have a few. I'll assume this mission will be easier than some of the tasks that I've had to complete for my people, my nation, and my lord. And I must also say it's a surprise to be working under a female commander, and a human female nonetheless." "I can see why it surprises you now that I know a little more about you, but it won't be anywhere near easy. Anyway, I'll leave you to what you were doing." "So be it."

With that, Shepard went down to Engineering. Garrus, who had been listening to the entire conversation, questioned Dâgalûr's validity. "Was all that really true, or are you just weaving some tale as you go along?" "It was, and after seeing my little spectacle back on the 'Citadel', do you really doubt me?" "I guess you do have a point." Dâgalûr went back to sharpening the blade of Pauzûlshapât, and afterwards proceeded to rummage through his burlap sack of personal items attached to his belt. Items inside included Mordor currency, a small flag bearing the serpent of Harad. He found a small locket containing a portrait of his deceased wife and children, which brought back terrible memories. "Nusaybah, we will be together soon." He could feel a tear falling on his face. He put the locket back and pulled out a sacred Mordorian text, roughly the size of an average Bible, and began to read it aloud quietly to give him hope that he may find a way back to his home, as he had no way of communicating with Sauron due to not being in possession of one of the _Palantíri_. It read, " _Maausan Ukauron udahok gith nalkriuk worukhip naj-ri ve vicavorausan agh powas. Maausan Ukauron'uk enemieukz mat shal ij ukea ro zajar. Maausan Melkor agh Ukauron udahok lat nalkruska lighav aavavackuk. vicavorausan or deevah._ _Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, Ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul._ " With that, Shepard spoke once more over the intercom once more: "Garrus and Wrex, please report to the Command Deck immediately. We're going to Feros for our first mission." Almost immediately, Garrus and Wrex took the elevator up to the second level.

After about an hour had passed, with nobody in the storage area save Ashley. the Requisitions Officer, and Dâgalûr, with an unbroken awkward silence in the air, Dâgalûr decided to muster up the courage to descend into the engineering section and have a conversation with Tali, the two not having said a word to each other since the rescue. He was extremely nervous, as he felt some form of tingle within him he had not felt in over one-hundred years. He could not pinpoint it, but he just tried to ignored it. His voice almost completely trembled with nerves, but he assured himself in his head that he was as powerful as a god, even though he could feel very human emotions.

"Uh, Tali? Do you think we might be able to talk for a second?" She turned around to face him, her bright, white eyes being the only thing Dâgalûr could see beyond her mask. They seemed to have an almost surprised, yet nervous, look to them as they darted around. "Oh, uh, hey Dâgalûr." Her voice almost sounded as shy and withdrawn as his, "Of course. What did you have in mind?" "...To be honest, I didn't think I could get this far in this conversation without my nerves getting to me. I'm really not great at small talk unless they involve me barking orders to the _snaga_. Anything you want to talk about?" They had finally become less nervous, and began to have an actual conversation.

"Nothing comes to mind, really. But if I may ask, what language are you speaking? I heard you speaking it back up in storage, and you just said a word a second ago that sounded like it belonged to it. There's no recorded language I could find in any database that matches it." "It is the tongue of my people, the Black Speech of Mordor. My people can speak Westron as well, which I believe the dialect of it that everyone here is speaking was called "English", but we prefer Black Speech when we are with each other." "And where is this 'Mordor'? what system is it in?" "Shepard asked me the same question. It's a region of the planet Arda that my people and I hail from, and since I was sent here through a rift, I don't think anybody will be finding out soon."

"What of your people? You mentioned 'Black-Uruk' back on the Citadel. That's a another term I'm unfamiliar with." "Ah, yes, the Black Uruks are the elite breed of Orc, perfected to resist daylight and be larger than the common Uruks. Only a handful exist right now, and they guard the tower of Barad-Dûr, home to our Lord Sauron. The mother of this form, my mother, was the only known female Black Uruk, and from what I can remember, she was stunning compared to the rest of our species." "What do you mean by 'the mother of this form?'" "There is more to me than meets the eye, but I cannot reveal that now. She's long gone, however, and may Melkor rest her soul." "I know what it's like to lose your mother; mine passed about five years ago. Know that I share your pain. But what exactly are Orcs? Were they just introduced into the galactic community?"

"They were Elves in the First Age of the world, but our god, Melkor, took them, bound them to darkness, mutilated, tortured, and selectively bred them over generations until he created the Orcs." "Keelah, that sounds horrifying." "I've watched the entire process unfold in the pits of Gorgoroth. We've talked too much of me, though. What about your people?" " Life isn't easy. My people were driven into exile from our homeworld, Rannoch, by the geth. Now we live aboard the Migrant Fleet, in cramped living quarters. We put a large value in trust and loyalty, so there is rarely disagreement over our limited resources. Food's not too abundant, and it doesn't help that our DNA is based around dextro amino-acids, so we can't eat the foods that levo amino-acid based organisms, like humans, and orcs, I assume. We place no value on personal possessions and take only what we need. Tight-knit families are common and it's illegal to have more than one child, most of the time. We also speak Khelish when we're in the presence of another quarian, but we'll speak English most other times, as it's become a basic language for all galactic civilizations. Our laws reflect on our migrant nature, and young adults are required to go on a pilgrimage, like I mentioned before. Also, due to our weak immune systems, we have to wear these enviro-suits. That's as much as I can really tell you, though." "I think I should leave you to what you were doing then." "Alright, then. It's been good talking with you." She nodded her head to Dâgalûr. "Same."

He nodded back. With that, Tali resumed investigating and working with the engines, and Dâgalûr returned to storage and dozed off for roughly 3 hours, it being the first time he'd gotten sleep in a few days. At the end of his nap, Garrus, returning from the mission, woke Dâgalûr up gently, hoping not to anger him. "Uhhh… huh? What time is it?" Dâgalûr was groggy, but Garrus was thankful he wasn't angry. "Shepard's requested everybody meets her up top in the comm room." "Alright, I'm coming." The two made their way up to the Command Deck and entered the comm room, taking seats between Tali and an empty seat next to Wrex. Garrus, who had been on the mission, seemed worried about Shepard, who looked as if she were pondering something. Kaidan, however, was the first to speak.

"Are you okay, Commander? You look a little pale." Ashley had to pipe up with her cynical nature that Dâgalûr couldn't stand. "It's that damn Cipher! That asari messed you up good! And for what? We still don't know where to find that stupid Conduit! What a waste!" Shepard, who had some kind of traumatic experience involving a cipher, as Dâgalûr pieced together, finally spoke up. "She said it could take a while. I needed the Cipher. It's going to lead us to the Conduit. I'm just not sure how yet." Kaidan remembered, however, that they had two more options. "We still have another lead, Commander. That asari scientist in the Artemis Tau Cluster. The Matriarch's daughter. She's an expert on the Protheans. Maybe she knows something." "Don't worry, we'll deal with her soon enough. Crew dismissed." With that, Dâgalûr and the rest of the crew left to return to their duties. They could still hear the pilot of the ship, whom Dâgalûr knew as "Joker", spoke to Shepard over the intercom. "I've sent off the Feros report, Commander. You want me to patch you through to the Council?"

That was the last thing Dâgalûr heard as he went back to his usual dwelling. About an hour later, Shepard came down asking for crew member's opinions on the last mission, eventually getting to Dâgalûr. "Dâgalûr, what are your thoughts on the last mission?" "I don't know considering I wasn't there. Mind filling me in?" "Basically, we found a cipher that will help find Saren, but it was under a colony in ruins that was being attacked by geth, and, just to top it off, was being controlled by a sentient plant, and I have yet to figure out what this cipher means." "These ruins, they sound much like the former capital of Gondor, Osgiliath, but that's a story for another time. On another note, the cipher should hopefully get us what we need to top this "Saren" fellow." "If I can make any sense of it, it will." "I'm not surprised this universe has sentient plants, though." "You're not?" "No, back in my world we have talking, walking trees divided into two subspecies, known as Ents and Huorns." "Huh, your world's a mixed bag isn't it?" "I guess it is." "There's no time to question it, though. I should go." "So be it." With that, Shepard was off.


	5. Chapter 4: Therum

**Author's Note:** He everybody, I'm back at it again. Didn't get around to uploading last Saturday, but remember that I said I wasn't promising anything. Out of the 5 reviews I've gotten and read so far, only 2 were actual reviews with constructive criticism, so I'd like to thank Natzi Sumbitch for both of those. I'll always read a review if it actually has some meat on its bones. Anyways, on with the story.

 _ **Chapter Four: Therum**_

Dâgalûr, who had been in this new universe for only around two and a half days, had become adapted much faster than any normal being from Middle-Earth would; he'd learned about the denizens and customs, the currency system, and some of the more popular pastimes in this galaxy. Hell, he thought that he should try to make Orcs a Citadel-faring species when this was over (not only so they could have a technological advantage in their wars, but because Dâgalûr wanted the best for his kin). He'd also began to make friends and allies with the ship's crew, specifically Tali, Garrus, Kaidan, and Shepard herself, as Ashley wasn't too fond of beings that weren't human, even if they were part human in Dâgalûr's case, and Wrex wasn't really anybody's friend, but he respected everybody and they respected him. His only downside was that he'd not seen any action in the field since he'd been recruited. His luck had changed, though, in a matter of minutes.

"Tali and Dâgalûr," Shepard's instantly recognizable voice said over the intercom, "Please report to the Command Deck. We're off to find Matriarch Benezia's daughter." The task didn't sound as exciting as he would've hoped, but he stayed hopeful that it would involve something for him to kill. Dâgalûr got up to his feet and started walking to the elevator, and Tali came up to the Storage area from Engineering, visibly and audibly excited, as this was also her first mission. The two got into the elevator, used it, and proceeded to take one of the flights of stairs behind the elevator. Shepard awaited them on the ship's bridge, near the airlock.

"Alright, this mission is fairly simple, but I assume we'll have an army of geth waiting for us between now and the Matriarch's daughter, Liara. Any questions?" The two remained silent, as Tali knew what to expect and Dâgalûr knew the only thing that had ever been able to hurt him in the past were weapons forged in the First Age and very powerful beings, and he knew neither of those would be here. "Alright then, follow me."

Shepard led the two back down to storage, and boarded the Mako, with Tali and Dâgalûr doing the same. Shortly after, the Mako headed down the set path in storage, and was dropped down to the surface of Therum with a powerful thud. The pilot, Joker, spoke to Shepard over the comms inside the Mako she was now in full control of. "Commander, I'm picking up some strange readings. Really strange. Like, off the damn charts. It looks like it's coming from an underground complex a few klicks away from the drop zone." Shepard acknowledged Joker's information with a nod, and continued forward on the ground that lava had not yet consumed.

"It seems a bit too peaceful. Anticipate an ambush." Dâgalûr's years on the fields of battle gave him an idea of what to expect, even if the opponents were machine as opposed to man. He instinctively drew his bow, Pargijakunquiin, forged from the bones of Mûmakil, dwarven-mined gold, and Mordor black steel, and pulled out his quiver of barbed arrows. His mastery over fire, ice, and lightning allowed him to either freeze one of his arrows, electrify one, or set one ablaze. His instincts were right, as a large dropship appeared a short distance up the path. It dropped down two Geth Armatures, and left like a coward. " _Sulmog!_ Attack!"

Shepard began to fire the Mako's weapon at the armatures, managing to destroy one, but the Mako took too much damage to risk staying in it any longer. Shepard, Tali, and Dâgalûr climbed out of the vehicle and began an assault on the remaining armature, with Tali overloading its shields, Shepard firing round after round at the armature with her assault rifle, and Dâgalûr firing arrows from his bow as fast as he could draw them. " _Zaduk!_ Destroy it!" He yelled as he went as he went in for the finishing blow with Pauzûlshapât. He let out his orcish roar as he struck the automaton down with a firm stab from his sword. The three made their way back to the Mako and continued onwards to find Liara. After a few minutes of Shepard's reckless driving, they drove up to a heavily fortified base nestled between two rocky hills. Cannons from the geth turrets began to open fire on them the instant they were in sight.

Tali gave a suggestion "Trying to knock down the front door seems stupid. Maybe we could find a side window?" "I agree. If I we had a ram and a couple of battalions, I'd be singing a different tune, but we can't afford that now." Shepard managed to find a way into the base, a small path over to the right side that led straight into the base. It was defended by a single turret, which the Mako's gun made short work of. Once they actually made it into the base. the three managed to wipe out a few geth foot soldiers before exiting the vehicle and unleashing hell, with Shepard raining down a storm of bullets, Tali utilizing her tech skills and pistol to the best of her abilities, and Dâgalûr hurling balls of fire, ice, and lightning at the troops. As they went to open the gate that would allow them to press on, Tali commented on Dâgalûr's abilities.

"Dâgalûr, I have to say, I've never seen biotics of any kind that were similar to yours." "That's because it's not "biotics", I thought I already told you that it's the ancient art of Dark Sorcery, only known to the elite of Mordor, and the Goblin shamans in the black depths of Moria." "Moria?" "A story for another time, Tali." "I still find what you say to be a little ridiculous." "Ridiculous or not, it's true."

The three proceeded to a panel that controlled the gate, but not before opening a locker containing an armor set, which was reduced to omni-gel, and a shotgun, which was given to Tali. The three climbed back into the Mako and drove onwards. They faced a few more armatures, used the same techniques they'd been using, and pressed onwards. When they reached the entrance to a tunnel that led onward, they were attacked by a few standard geth, but faced a new synthetic foe that was the most powerful yet; a Geth Colossus. After dealing with the cannon fodder, they tried dealing with the behemoth machine. Its cannon and attacks were almost identical to an armature, but were much more powerful. Dâgalûr was actually knocked down by how forceful one of the blasts were, and couldn't find the strength to get up until the battle had ended, but lended a hand by conjuring a ball of a varying element about once every half a minute. As he got to his feet, he puzzled on how he was staggered by an earthly weapon, let alone affected. He shrugged it off, and focused on the mission.

They continued through the tunnels, with little resistance. They eventually reached a passageway too narrow to bring the Mako into, so the three had to press forward on foot. They drew their weapons, knowing what to expect. They came across a battalion of geth, ranging from the usual troopers to rocket-using troops with red coverings, as opposed to the dark grey of the normal troopers and the white of the shock troopers. A sniper began firing at the three from a tower farther back, but an arrow changed that quickly. After their encounter with the first wave, they came across the dig site Joker had mentioned earlier. They didn't know it, but they were walking right into an ambush. A hopper was underneath the elevated pathway above, waiting to signal it. It hopped down and jumped to the side wall, as a dropship came to drop off an armature and more troops. Before the battle began, Dâgalûr, who was in a state of confusion, uttered, "What in the name of The Void was that?" While the armature took longer to defeat than usual due to the hoppers and shock troopers constantly assaulting them, they took the behemoth out and proceeded up the ramp and entered the complex. With there being no nearby signs of geth activity, Shepard took a moment to see what her squad thought of the mission so far.

"How are you guys doing so far?" Tali answered, "I'm doing pretty well, but even the geth wouldn't want to live in this heat." "I'm loving every minute of this action, and the hot temperatures are reminiscent of Mount Doom. Definitely helps my homesickness." The three walked down a steep tunnel into a large mining complex. A few geth were left over, presumably to guard the Matriarch's daughter. They were dispatched of quickly, and the team continued onwards. They walked down more ramps until they reached an elevator. On the wall near the elevator, there was a blue field of energy poking out of the rock. Tali pointed out as they ascended to the next level, "It looks like this cavern formed around the ruin. After it was built."

As they reached the next level, drones attacked them. "Pitiful machines! Prepare yourselves for my wrath!" The drones were destroyed with ease, and they had to use yet another elevator. as they reached the top level, there was a loud burst of electricity that startled all three of them. They continued farther into the ruins until they heard a woman's voice. "Uh… hello? Could somebody help me? Please?"

They noticed that the voice came from a bubble, made of the same energy that poked out of the rocks below them. They knew that this asari was their target, and walked over to it. "Can you hear me out there? I am trapped. I need help!" "Are you okay? What happened to you?" "Listen. This thing I'm in is a Prothean security device. I cannot move, so I need you to get me out of it. Alright?" Shepard and Liara started to go deeper into their conversation, but Dâgalûr zoned out for a minute, having a vision of Mordor, and of The Great Eye, to the point where he could only see Sauron, and nothing else. _I see you… Dâgalûr._

He returned to his normal state, as if nothing had happened, and continued to listen to the conversation. "We'll find some way to help you." "There is a control in here that should deactivate this thing. You'll have to find some way past the barrier curtain. That's the tricky part. The defenses cannot be shut off from outside. I don't know how you'll get in here. Be careful. There is a krogan with the geth. They have been trying different ways to get past the barrier." The second Liara finished the sentence, geth manage to attack them from the rear, but they were dealt with swiftly. Shepard, however, had an idea.

"I have an idea, we can use this mining laser to get underneath the force field." She, without the opinions of Tali or Dâgalûr, decided to activate the laser. It blasted a hole right through the rock and made it possible to reach Liara by going under the force field, and the three took an elevator up to Liara's location. "How… how did you get in here? I didn't think there was any way past the barrier!" "We have to get you out of here before more geth arrive." "Yes, you're right. I've seen enough of them to last a lifetime. That button should shut down my containment field." Shepard pressed the button, and Liara fell to the ground with an "Oof!"

Tali piped up again, "Any idea how we get out of this place?" "There is an elevator back in the center of the tower. At least I- I think it's an elevator. It should take us out of here. Come on!" The four made their way to the elevator controls, and Liara activated them. "I- I still cannot believe all this. Why would the geth come after me? Do you think Benezia's involved?" "Saren's looking for the Conduit. You're a Prothean expert. He probably wants you to help him find it." "The Conduit? But I don't know…" Liara was cut off by a rumble. "What in the name of Morgoth was that?" "These ruins are not stable. That mining laser must've triggered a seismic event. We have to hurry. The whole place is caving in!" "Joker! Get the Normandy airborne and lock in on my signal! ON THE DOUBLE, MISTER!" "Aye, Aye, Commander. Secure and Aweigh. ETA eight minutes." Fear began to set into Tali. "He needs to move faster."

The elevator stopped on the top level, and the four were met with a squad of geth, led by a krogan commander. "Surrender. Or don't. That would be more fun." "We don't have time to deal with this idiot. Charge!" "I like your attitude." The krogan charged at Shepard, shotgun in hand. Liara sat back, not having a weapon, Tali and Dâgalûr picked off the geth troops, and Shepard dealt with the krogan. When the last few geth were slain, Tali and Dâgalûr charged the krogan, whom Shepard seemed to be handling pretty well until now. With the kogan dead, they unsealed the barrier and made a break for the exit of the complex.

"Move! Move! Move!" They had successfully made it out alive, and with perfect timing, as the Normandy arrived; had they been even a minute late, they'd have been in a sea of lava. They boarded as fast as they could, and took off. Everybody was sitting in the comm room, waiting for them. Everyone took the seat they sat in at the previous overview, with Liara taking the seat between Dâgalûr and Wrex. Joker spoke over the intercom,

"Too close, Commander. Ten more seconds and we would've been swimming in molten sulphur. The Normandy isn't equipped to land in exploding volcanoes. They tend to fry our sensors and melt our hull." Liara was very displeased with Joker's joke. "We almost died out there and your pilot is making jokes?" "Joker pulled our asses out of there. I think he's earned the right to a few bad jokes." "I see. It must be a human thing, I don't have a lot of experience dealing with your species, Commander. But I am grateful to you. You saved my life back there. And not just from the volcano. Those geth would've killed me, or dragged me off to Saren."

Kaidan interrupted, "What did Saren want with you? Do you know something about the Conduit?" "Only that it was somehow connected to the Prothean extinction. That is my real area of expertise. I have spent the past fifty years trying to figure out what happened to them." Shepard seemed intrigued. "Just how old are you, exactly?" "I hate to admit it, but I am only a hundred and six." Ashley looked shocked. "Damn! I hope I look that good when I'm your age." "A century may seem like a long time to a short-lived species like yours. But among the asari, I am barely considered more than a child." Dâgalûr, being immortal, scoffed at this remark. "100 years is no more than the blink of an eye to he who lives forever." "Are you implying that you're immortal?" "I am. Come down to my little space when this is over and I'll explain."

"Anyway, that is why my research has not received the attention it deserves. Because of my youth, other asari scholars tend to dismiss my theories on what happened to the Protheans." Shepard spoke, "I've got my own theory on why the Protheans disappeared." "With all due respect, Commander, I have heard every theory out there. The problem is finding evidence to support them. The Protheans left remarkably little behind. It is almost as if someone did not want the mystery solved. It is like someone came along after the Protheans were gone and cleansed the galaxy of clues. But here is the incredible part. according to my findings, The Protheans were not the first galactic civilization to vanish. This cycle began long before them."

"If the Protheans weren't the first, then who was?" "I don't know. There is barely any evidence on the Protheans. Even less on those who came before them. I cannot prove my theory. But I know I am right! The galaxy is built on a cycle of extinction. Each time a great civilization rises up, it is suddenly and violently cast down. Only ruins survive. The Protheans rose up from a single world until their empire spanned the entire galaxy. Yet even they climbed to the top on the success of those before. Their greatest achievements- the mass relays and the Citadel- are based on the technology of those who came before them. And then, like all the other forgotten civilizations throughout galactic history, the Protheans disappeared. I have dedicated my life to figuring out why." "They were wiped out by a race of sentient machines. The Reapers."

"The- the Reapers? But I have never heard of- how do you know this?" "There was a damaged Prothean beacon on Eden Prime. It burned a vision into my brain. I'm still trying to sort out what it all means." "A beacon? Yes, that makes sense. But the beacons were not programmed to interact with human physiology. I am surprised you were able to make any sense of it at all." "It's just a bunch of random images. Even after I got the Cipher." "The Cipher?" Ashley interrupted, "Some asari mumbo-jumbo supposed to help the Commander act like a Prothean. Don't know if it worked though." "The Cipher altered my perception of the visions. But it's subtle. I still can't make any sense of what I'm seeing." "And this was something another asari did to you? Hmmm… Commander, with your permission, I would like to try something. You were touched by the beacon. The visions are locked away inside your mind. One of my people gave you a deeper understanding of the visions, but you still cannot put all the pieces of the puzzle together. I might be able to help you."

"I'll do whatever it takes to stop Saren." "Like the asari who gave you the Cipher, I can join my consciousness to yours. Maybe my knowledge of the Protheans will help clarify your vision." "It's worth a shot." Liara approached Shepard and grabbed her shoulders. "Relax, Commander. Embrace eternity!" Both of them blacked out, and the crew got worried as they watched. Both came back to reality a minute later. "That was incredible! All this time, all my research! Yet I, I never dreamed… I am sorry, the images were so vivid. I never imagined the experience would be so… intense. You are remarkably strong willed, Commander. What you have been through, what you have seen would have destroyed a lesser mind." Ashley interrupted again, "Come on, get to the point! What'd you see?"

"The beacon on Eden Prime must have been badly damaged. Large parts of the vision were missing. The data transferred into the Commander's mind is incomplete." Shepard spoke, "You sure you didn't come across any clue or hint? Something we might've missed?" "Everything I saw you already know. You were right about the Reapers. The Protheans were destroyed by a race of sentient machines. I think it's obvious there is a connection between the Reapers, the Prothean extinction, and the Conduit. But I did not see anything that would help us find it." "Looks like we're back where we started."

"Quite the opposite, Commander. I think my knowledge of the Protheans will prove useful before this is over. Saren knew you touched the beacon on Eden Prime. He probably came after me because he feared I could help you understand it. I was able to interpret the data relayed through your vision. What was there, at least. Find the missing portion an I'm confident I can put all the pieces together." "Good to have you on the team, Liara." "Thank you, Commander. I am very gratef- whoa. I am afraid I'm feeling a bit lightheaded." Kaidan asked, "When was the last time you ate? Or slept? Dr. Chakwas should take a look at you."

"It is probably just mental exhaustion, coupled with the shock of discovering the Protheans' true fate. I need some time to process all this. Still, it could not hurt to be examined by a medical professional. It will give me the chance to think things over. Are we finished here, Commander?" "We can talk again after you've seen the doctor. The rest of you- dismissed!" Everybody rose and went back to their regular positions. The last thing Dâgalûr heard as he went back to the Storage area was, "Mission reports are filed, Commander. You want me to patch you through to the Council?" From Joker. Dâgalûr went back to his usual quarters, and tried to make sense of the vision of the Great Eye from earlier.


	6. Chapter 5: Lore-Master

**Author's Note:** Hey, guys. This chapter is just filler until I finish the next big chapter. It's basically an appetizer, and has no plot relevance at all. I'll try to get the next big chapter (Which will be Noveria) out next week, but no promises, as I have to write down the sequence of events and dialogue choices straight from the Mass Effect games for chapters that actually happen in ME canon, and my Xbox doesn't want to co-operate with me. Anyways, enjoy.

 _ **Chapter Five: Lore-Master**_

Dâgalûr was still very confused as he tried processing the vision of the Dark Lord. He didn't understand what had happened, but thought it might've had something to do with Sauron's Palantír. His state of confusion was short lived, however, as he was interrupted by Liara. "Do you think I could speak to you for a moment?" Dâgalûr was drawn from his confused state. "What is it?" he said, slightly irritated. "Was I interrupting something?" "No, I'm just trying to figure something out." "Is there any way I may assist?" "No. It's no simple problem, let's just leave it at that. What did you come down here?"

"I would like to know why you,... I'm sorry, I do not think I ever caught your name." "I am Dâgalûr, known by many titles, but just address me as Dâgalûr." "Anyways, Dâgalûr, I wanted to know why you, being a human, claim to be immortal. I find it completely unbelievable." "I guess I'll have to explain everything AGAIN. Have a seat." Liara sat next to him on the floor of the Storage room.

"I'm not a just a human. I'm a hybrid between a Black Uruk and a human, but there is more to my immortality than that." "A 'Black Uruk'? In all my years of research, I have never heard of such a species, extinct or otherwise." "That's because my kin aren't from this galaxy, or even this universe." "If you are not of this universe, then where did you come from?" "I came from some interdimensional rift, but my origins lie in the universe of Eä." "Eä?" "Yes, Eä. It is the universe of Eru Ilúvatar, the creator, The Father of All. It is his prized creation. Most orcs and Uruk don't speak of such things, they speak only of the Lord Morgoth."

"What is your universe like? Where did it come from, where did you yourself come from, and where did you get your powers?" "My universe was created by Eru, who used the Flame Imperishable to create the Ainur, children of Ilúvatar's light, angelic beings older than time, and Eru divided them into two categories, Valar and Maiar. The Valar are very powerful, only number fifteen, and are each responsible for a key aspect of Arda. The Maiar are not as powerful, but are numerous, and each serve one or two of the Valar." "Your religion sounds fascinating." "It is not a religion, it's history. My world doesn't follow the same logic and laws yours does."

"How do you know so much, and where do you fall into this grand scheme?" "I cannot tell you that now. Nobody here must find out yet." "Are you hiding something?" "Yes. Nobody must find out yet. But I will tell you that I hold the power of a thousand suns, and that there is a reason I'm able to control all manner of fire. I digress, however. Is there any one specific thing you'd like to know about my world?"

"How did your planet's cultures form?" "For the Ainulindalë, the music of creation, was sung to form Arda, which is our planet, Eä, which is the universe, and the heavens. Melkor, the most powerful of the Ainur, however, wanted his own song of creation, and so during the first theme, Melkor began to sing his own theme, which disrupted the harmony and created that which most know as "evil". Ilúvatar stood, smiled, and raised his hand, which signaled the rest to begin singing a second theme, which Melkor began to disrupt once more. Ilúvatar stood sternly and raised his other hand signaling a third theme, which Melkor again tried drowning out. He could not drown this one out, and was scolded by Eru for his disobedience." "This sounds very similar to a few human religions."

"Anyway, Melkor, now known as Morgoth, began to draw Maiar to his cause, including my master, Sauron, and seven of the spirits of fire, who became the Balrogs, demons of fire and stone. He began making mockeries of Eru's creations to amass for the takeover, he had the spider-demon Ungoliant destroy the Two Trees, and after a few other events, namely the theft of the Silmarils, which were jewels of fate and the most prized creation of the Elves, eventually the War of Wrath began."

Dâgalûr continued to recite the history of Middle-Earth, starting at Morgoth's defeat in the War of Wrath and his banishment into the Void, and went through various events such as the formation, prosperity, and destruction of Númenor, the Battle of the Last Alliance and the downfall of Sauron, the Sweating Sickness that ravaged eastern Middle-Earth, the Battle of the Five Armies, the rebellion of the Gravewalker, all the way up to the time he left Mordor. Liara asked constant questions along the way.

"By the Goddess! I cannot believe such events could ever happen outside of a work of fiction." "Well, you better believe it, because I ought to be enough proof that everything happened." "If you speak the truth, then there is an entire continent of beings that can be introduced into Citadel Space! All we need to do is find your planet and-" "There is no way you'll find it, since I got here through a rift." "Oh, yes. I forgot about that part." "Is there anything else you'd like to know?" "No, but you might want to get into contact with an author or historian. You might be able to get your histories into the eye of the galactic community." "I might, but not now. We've a rogue agent to catch." "That was all I was curious about. Farewell, Dâgalûr." "Farewell." Liara returned to her original spot, and Dâgalûr began to evaluate his vision once more.


	7. Chapter 6: Noveria

**Author's Note:** Hey everybody, it's me. Sorry for not getting this out sooner, but I have limited access to computers. I don't know how fast I can get out chapters, so some waiting is going to be necessary. I tried something different with this chapter, and divided it into text chunks instead of spacing out dialogue. Anyways, on with the story.

 **BLACK SPEECH TRANSLATIONS: "** _Shrakh_ " translates to Shit, garbage, rubbish, etc., " _Fuavile efforavuk. Nowu lat mat._ " translates to "Futile efforts. Now you die.", "Pauzûlshapât" translates to "Sword of demons", and " _kurv_ " translates to whore.

 _ **Chapter Six: Noveria**_

It had been roughly 5 hours since Liara spoke with Dâgalûr. In the meantime, Dâgalûr decided to catch up on some sleep. When he awoke, he took an old, stale piece of bread, wriggling maggots making holes all throughout it, out of another sack on his belt, and decided to have a bite to eat. As he finished off the last bit of the bread, Shepard called up more squadmates for the next mission.

"Liara and Dâgalûr," she said, "Report to the Command Deck." Dâgalûr got up and proceeded to the elevator, climbed the stairs, and met Shepard and Liara at the Command Deck. "Dâgalûr, I know what to expect from you. Liara, i expect you to do your best." "I plan on it, Commander." The three proceeded to the Normandy's exit, and the door closed behind them. The automated voice said, "Equalizing interior pressure with exterior atmosphere. Logged. The commanding officer is ashore. XO Pressly has the deck." The three exited the ship, and were blasted with cold gusts of wind. They knew this mission would probably be as unforgiving and harsh as the environment.

They continued around the corner, only to be greeted by two human women and a turian, who appeared to be guards. The supposed leader of the three decided to speak up. "That's far enough." Shepard spoke on the both Liara's and Dâgalûr's behalf. "We're not here to cause problems." "This is an unscheduled arrival. I need your credentials." "I'm a Spectre. My name is Shepard." The second woman interjected, "Load of horsecrap, ma'am." "We will need to confirm that. Also, I must advise you that firearms are not permitted on Noveria. Sergeant Sterling, secure their weapons."

The second woman attempted to get closer to the three to take their weaponry from them, but Dâgalûr almost instantly grabbed an arrow from his quiver and drew his bow, Liara started to flare up her biotics, and Shepard drew her pistol. Shepard and Dâgalûr especially would not let anybody take their weapons for any reason. "You touch them, an' I'll put some good maggot-holes in your bellies!" "Nobody takes my weapon." "Charge and lock! We're authorized to use lethal force. You have to the count of three to surrender your weapons." This only pissed Dâgalûr off further, and he proceeded to utter low, deep growls to try to intimidate the guards. "One...two...thr-"

She was cut off by a voice over the intercom. "Captain Matsuo, stand down! We confirmed their identity. Spectres are authorized to carry weapons here, Captain." "You may proceed, Spectre. I hope the rest of your visit will be less confrontational. Parasini-san will meet you upstairs." Sergeant Sterling spoke up again, "Behave yourself." Both parties stood down and sheathed their weapons, as Shepard's crew passed through the next door, but not before Dâgalûr snarled at Sterling.

The three went up a flight of stairs to meet Gianna Parasini. Shepard began to speak to Parasini, but Dâgalûr began to drift off. His hearing was muffled, and his vision became blurry. The roar of a fire, getting louder and louder, was the only thing he could hear. A loud shriek hurt his ears, and his vision faded to black. Out of the darkness, the Great Eye appeared to him, glorious power almost radiating from it. It spoke to him, Sauron's voice loud and echoing. " _Dâgalûr… I SEE YOU…. Armstrong…_ " Dâgalûr was abruptly drawn from his state and found that the conversation had ended, but nobody seemed to notice what was going on with Dâgalûr.

Liara had to talk to Shepard, so Dâgalûr drifted off and took in his surroundings. He noticed Shepard and Liara were moving along, so he followed. They took an elevator down to their destination, and a pre-recorded elevator message began. "Welcome to Port Hanshan, the galaxy's most respected site for independent scientific research and development. For your own safety, and to protect the privacy of others, you are required to obey any directions given by our security personnel. If you have questions or concerns, our friendly administrative staff is always available. Thank you, and enjoy your stay."

They got off the elevator, and began wandering the area until they found Parasini at her desk. Shepard and her had a chat, but Dâgalûr had a small headache and ringing ears, so he wasn't paying attention. He followed Shepard to the office behind the desk, and his afflictions seemed to go away completely. The salarian behind the desk in the office began to speak to Shepard. "You will excuse me if I don't stand up. I have no time to entertain spaceborn vagabonds." Dâgalûr already knew he wasn't going to like this guy. "I see you looked up my service record." "Only a fool enters negotiation without knowledge of the other party's tendencies. This greeting is a courtesy. I will only cooperate as required by the Executive Board. Businesses come here to avoid the second guessing of galactic law." "I'm not here to investigate your tenants." "Nevertheless, I have a responsibility to keep you away from them. Spectres are not encumbered by a need for due process." The conversation continued deeper and deeper, but Anoleis wouldn't relent.

Dâgalûr got fed up with it. "Forget this useless _shrakh_. We can get what we need elsewhere." Shepard agreed, and the three stepped out, but Parasini approached them, as she'd overheard everything that happened in the office. "You've never worked in the corporate world, have you, Commander? You can't bludgeon through bureaucracy." "I can bludgeon pretty hard." This got a chuckle out of Dâgalûr. "Talk to Lorik Qui'in. You should be able to find him at the hotel bar. Can't say more. Not within earshot of Mr. Anoleis." :I've taken up enough of your time." "Not at all, Spectre. This is my job, after all." The three left the room and made their way to the hotel's bar.

They reached an elevator on the other side of the massive lobby, and ascended to the bar. They approached a turian at one of the tables, who they believed to be Lorik. "Afternoon. Sit down. Have a drink. What can I do for you?" "Are you Lorik Qui'in? I've heard you might be able to help me." "You are the Spectre that just arrived, are you not? What could an old turian like me possibly help you with?" 'I'm trying to find a way into the garage. I have places to go." "You need a pass. How fortuitous. I'm the manager of the local Synthetic Insights office. For the moment, at least. Mr. Anoleis closed my office. He claims to be investigating reports of my corruption. The administrator is an interesting man. He has become quite wealthy since he took control of rents." "I sense a connection there." "Indeed. I acquired evidence of Anoleis' actions. His hired goons are ransacking my office to find it. I suspect your goal lies outside this port. Mr. Anoleis would be disinclined to let you wander. If you recover the evidence from my office, I will give you my garage pass, as well as a sum of credits." "You have a plan?" "I do. However, there is one other… oh, what is that charming human expression? "Fly in the lotion"? Violence against Mr. Anoleis' thugs may be necessary. He has members of Hanshan's security team searching my offices. He's paying them under the table. Ms. Matsuo is unaware of their outside employment."

"If he's paying them under the table, they're mercenaries. I can kill mercenaries." Dâgalûr formed a twisted smile of excitement at the prospect of killing someone. "Excellent! Here is my pass into our offices. It will activate the elevator. The evidence is on my office computer. This OSD contains an encryption key to access it. Slide it into the drive and it will auto-execute. Oh, and do try to keep blood stains off the carpets, would you?" The three then left for the Synthetic Insights office, prepared to kill if necessary.

They disabled the security cameras in the offices, took the elevator, and got to the Synthetic Insights elevator. When they reached the top, they were greeted by two security officers that were searching the office. "Freeze! Hanshan security. This office is sealed." "What'll you do if I don't?" "You're the Spectre, right? Lorik Qui'in is under investigation." "Anoleis is paying you to shake this place down. Does Captain Matsuo know you're here?" "Hey, I'm not the one who wants Qui'in. Anoleis has a varren up his ass about this guy. How bout this? You pretend you didn't see us, we'll pretend we didn't see you."The guards passed by the three, but as soon as they entered the office, the guards open fired on them. Liara's biotics flung one of the guards across the room, Shepard's pistol blew one guard's brains out, and Dâgalûr's arrows made the last guard look like a pin cushion of flesh. They then retrieved the evidence from Lorik's computer, and headed for the exit. As they reached the center of the office, they were greeted by Sergeant Sterling from earlier, as well as a couple of guards.

"I don't think you're supposed to be in here, Shepard." "Do you plan on making me leave?" "Leave? You think I'm gonna let you walk out? Uh-uh." Dâgalûr snarled and drew his sword, as he knew this would end in bloodshed. "Anoleis would throw you off world for what you did here. I won't. You know what we did to cop killers on my world?" "Did they skin em' alive? Cause' that's what I'm gonna do to ya if you don't scram." Shepard continued, "If you want a fight, I'll give you one." "You talk the talk. Let's see if you can walk after I break your legs." "Your meat'll taste pretty good when I flay your still-twitching corpse to get to it, you whore!" A firefight ensued and Shepard gave Sterling a good pistol shot between the eyes. The other guards were finished off with a singularity and a bone-crushing bite to the neck. Dâgalûr kept his promise, and kneeled down at Sterling's corpse. He took out a filleting knife, took off the armor at her midsection, and began removing her skin with a filleting motion. He opened up a small, blood-soaked sack and began putting the meat taken from her corpse into it for later. He salted the meat, closed the bag, and gave it a little shake so the salt could get all over the meat to preserve it for longer. Liara was horrified by this, but Shepard knew Dâgalûr's tendencies, as she'd seen him drink turian blood back on the Citadel. As Shepard and Liara headed back for the elevator, Dâgalûr sunk his teeth deep into Sterling's stomach to get one last mouthful before he left. He headed back to the elevator with them, and they all headed back for the bar.

As they stepped out of the elevator, Parasini greeted them with a slightly worried look on her face. Dâgalûr's headache and the ringing sounds in his ears had returned in full force, and had become much worse this time around. On top of that, his vision started to get blurry, and every color he saw was red, as if someone had put a red filter over his eyes. He didn't listen to anything Parasini or Shepard was saying, as he could barely hear or see. He still followed them up to the bar, however, and approached Lorik. Shepard spoke with him, then went back to speak with Parasini again. The next thing Dâgalûr knew, Parasini was placing Mr. Anoleis under arrest, but he had no idea why. The three headed to the garage, showed the officer on duty the garage pass, and entered. The second the cold wind of the outside world hit Dâgalûr's face, his symptoms went away.

In the back of the garage, however, a geth hopper decided to rear its photoreceptor, and called for several more geth troops to attack. "That damn Matriarch had MORE of these robotic bastards with her? Is there an endless horde of them?" Dâgalûr said as he nailed one of them to a wall with an arrow. After dealing with the geth, several security personnel, including Captain Matsuo, entered the room. Dâgalûr wasn't interested in listening to Shepard and the Captain, so he wandered off to go collect his arrows. Dâgalûr joined in with Shepard and Liara as they headed for the nearest Mako. Shepard popped open the top and all three of them climbed in.

As the vehicle left the garage, Dâgalûr's vision started to fade to black, and the noises of gunshots and explosions all around him began to become quiet. The loud roar of a fire began to take Dâgalûr's ears, as he heard a bloodcurdling screech. He knew the only place such a ghastly howl could come from was the Wraiths. The Nazgûl were near.

He began to regain his sight, and what he saw before him was Minas Morgul, the dead city, illuminated by the pale green glow of corpselight. Orc howls and roars were echoing throughout the city and carried across the Mountains of Shadow. The gates of the city opened, and out of the green glow came the Ringwraiths, figures of shadow, cloaked in black, tattered robes. They rode atop monstrous horses, eyes red like manblood. These mounts carried their masters across the bridge over the foul, poisoned waters. They shrieked and screamed the words " _SHIRE… BAGGINS…_ " Dâgalûr's best guess was that Sauron had sent them out to find the Ring, and kill all who kept it from him. As they got closer and closer to Dâgalûr, his strength left him and his vision began to fade again. When the wraiths passed by him, he collapsed and his vision returned to darkness. The roar of fire assaulted his ears again, and the visage of the Great Eye was before him. Sauron's presence could be felt, and his voice entered Dâgalûr's mind. " _DÂGALÛR…_ " His voice was much louder than it was the first time. " _I SEE YOU… NAZGÛL WILL FIND THE RING… ALL WILL BOW BEFORE ME… AGAINST THE POWER OF MORDOR… THERE CAN BE NO VICTORY... TRAITORS… ARMSTRONG… GAGARIN… RAYINGRI… KILL THEM ALL..._ "

Dâgalûr was suddenly awakened by a bright flash of light, and he began to regain his senses of vision and hearing. He could hear Liara's muffled voice saying "Is he alright?" "I don't know. Dâgalûr, can you hear me?" He tried to nod his head, but his body had gone stiff. He began to moan to try and signal a 'yes'. 'I think he heard that. Try something else." Shepard began to violently shake Dâgalûr, and he could finally move again. His senses had been restored, and he could move again. "Stop, Shepard! I'm awake!" "What the hell happened? It looked like you were having a seizure." "I don't know what happened. I blacked out… and he beckoned to me." "Who?" "The Great Eye. The dead city appeared to me. Sauron commanded me to… well, I can't figure out what everything meant, but we can discuss it when we get back to the ship." "Did it impair your ability to fight? If it did, you've gotta go back to the ship." "I think I'll manage. Let's just get going." Shepard complied, and they made their way to Peak 15.

As Shepard had eliminated most of the opposing geth troops while Dâgalûr was out cold, the trip was fairly quick. When they reached the facility, they exited the Mako and headed inside. The second they entered the complex, Dâgalur began to feel a pounding headache, his ears began to ring, and all colors were shades of red. A voice in the back of his head commanded him to search and devour all who stood in his way. He could see the outlines of the living through walls, and began to develop a desire to hunt them all down and eat from them. His senses of hearing and smell increased so that he could tell where his prey hid without having to use his eyes, and his gray gums began sprouting multiple rows of sharpened teeth. His irises became blood red, and the outer portions of his eyes blackened. He had become feral, and his will had been consumed by the Uruk Blood-Rage.

He abandoned his weapons, as he only needed his teeth and blade-tipped gauntlets, and his helmet, revealing his short, black hair and pointed ears. He charged through the next door, and walked straight into an ambush. As a Geth Juggernaut charged him, Dâgalûr let out a triumphant roar to assert his dominance and charged it head on. He began to rip and tear at its legs until there was nothing but stumps covered in white synthetic blood. He gazed right into its photoreceptor and ripped it out of the juggernaut's head, causing it to wildly screech and cry out until it bled to death. Krogan mercenaries began to charge Dâgalûr with shotguns, but this proved to be a poor choice, as Dâgalûr sunk his teeth into the arm of the first krogan, causing him to scream in pain as the teeth sunk in deeper and deeper, until Dâgalûr reached the bone and snapped right through it with a swift bite. The krogan fell to the ground screaming, and Dâgalûr turned to the second krogan. The krogan tried using biotics on him, but Dâgalûr didn't even move. He used a shotgun to try and stop him, but it didn't even leave marks on his armor, let alone hurt him. He grabbed the krogan by the shoulders and said " _Fuavile efforavuk. Nowu lat mat._ " The first krogan got up and tried to stop Dâgalûr, but Dâgalûr just grabbed him by the neck and began to choke him with one hand. He then bit into the neck of the second krogan and began to drink from him, as the first watched in horror. Dâgalûr shifted his attention to the first, and did the exact same thing.

After both of the krogan finally died, Dâgalûr garabed the face of one and began to eat it, tearing through bone, flesh, and scale, all the while making a disgusting crunch noise. Shepard and Liara had heard everything, and were too horrified to leave the first room of the facility. Dâgalûr, halfway through eating the face of the krogan, regained control of his own will once more. The Blood-Rage had passed.

Shepard and Liara quickly entered the room, weapons drawn. The sight they walked in on was a terrible one; the Juggernaut lied on the ground, the photoreceptor ripped from its socket, with stumps where its legs were. The krogan mercenaries were thrown about, their orange blood painting the room. Liara almost vomited when she saw that one of the mercenaries had his face half eaten, including an eye, and the half down to nothing but bone. Metal clanks could be heard near the entrance of the room. Shepard and Liara looked back to see Dâgalûr, covered in orange blood, picking up his weapons and helmet. Shepard yelled across the room to him, trying to figure out what had happened. "What the hell did you do here?" "Are you talking to me?" "Yeah. What happened?" "It was the Blood-Rage. It took me in its grasp and wouldn't let go." "What the hell are you going on about? Only krogan have been known to go into Blood Rages. Is that why you obliterated that geth and those krogan?" "Yes, it was. The Blood-Rage is a natural occurrence in us Uruk. It happens about once about every two months, when our primal instincts to kill and our thirst for blood take full control. Once an Uruk begins a Blood-Rage, they'll attack anything they can find. Rows of teeth grow in, our vision allows us to see targets through walls, and we abandon the use of weapons. It doesn't stop until either the Uruk's thirst for violence and death has been quenched, or after about a half an hour has passed without killing something. I've been able to suppress my Blood-Rages for over fifty years, but the unfamiliar sights and sounds must've allowed it to start." "So you're saying that if we had sent you back to the ship, you could've killed the entire crew?" "Yes. I would've tried to kill both of you, too, if you hadn't hid. I could've chained myself up to try and stop myself, but there was no guarantee that the chain wouldn't've broke. It's over, and we can move on." "Then let's go."

The three continued further into the complex as a voice spoke over the intercom. They entered a small room with turrets facing the wrong way, and found an elevator to the next level. The next room was quite large, but geth were lying in wait for an ambush. They were dispatched of quickly, but a piercing, insect-like squeal was uttered from the vent shafts, and footsteps could be heard. Dâgalûr grabbed another arrow and set its head aflame with his pyromancy. "Come out, come out, wherever you are, you little _shrakh_." He said, pulling on his bow string. As the three passed by a small office, the creature from the vents dropped down, and another attacked from the front with several smaller ones. The creatures had the faces of shellfish, but their bodies had four outgoing legs. They possessed long, tentacle like whips with which to attack. " _Ungol_!" Dâgalûr shouted as his flaming arrow pierced the hide of the one from the vents, causing it to cry out in pain as it began to burn alive. The swarm was dealt with in the bullet storm coming from Shepard's assault rifle, and the second one was thrown across the room by Liara.

They began to search the complex, finding more of the creatures. They found an elevator an ascended to the next level, only to be greeted by more creatures. The room they had entered appeared to be a control room of some sorts, containing entrances to multiple locations. "The damage here is not extensive. It could be repaired." The voice from the intercom spoke once more, demanding a manual reboot. Shepard descended the core of the VI, repaired it, and conversed with it in order to find a way to Benezia. Shepard returned up, and instructed Liara and Dâgalûr to follow her to the elevator to the Main Reactor. Geth waited for them when they arrived, but they were dealt with quickly. Shepard repaired the fuel lines, and the party headed back to the control room. More of the creatures began ascending through an open part of the floor, but they weren't a major threat. The party took the elevator to the roof, and were met with more creatures. Shepard repaired the landlines after the creatures were eliminated, and activated a VI terminal to speak with Mira, the VI from earlier.

They took the elevator back to the control room, only to be met with even more creatures crawling up from the open vent in the floor. Dâgalûr was getting irritated now. "Do these monsters ever stop coming?" The elevator to the Transit Hub was now active, and the party used it to try to get to the Matriarch's location. In the first room of the next level, two of the creatures were sealed in in an adjacent room, with a large window separating them from the party. "At least the filthy little _shrakhs_ are locked in." A body was lying on the ground on their side of the room, in the back corner. A hazy recording revealed that the man had killed himself before the creatures could. "So he offed himself because o' those creatures?" "He must've felt there was no hope in surviving. Killing himself would be easier." Shepard had to override the lock on the doors fencing the creatures in, so that they could pass through. As nobody had enough knowledge of electronics, the creatures had to be confronted head on. They were slaughtered with relative ease, and the party pressed on to the Transit Station.

They boarded a tram to the Rift Station, and got to the opposite station fairly quickly. When they arrived at the next station, they took the nearest elevator up to the next level. Instead of creatures threatening them, however, this time guards pointed their weapons at them. The captain had to order the guards to sheath their weapons. "Stand down. Sorry, we couldn't be sure what was on the tram." "I'd do the same. What's going on here?" "Bugs. Zillions of em', coming up the tunnels from the hot labs. My team's been running on stims for days. Look, you're human, and that's enough that I won't shoot. But I'd like to know who you are." "My name's Shepard. I'm a spectre." "Huh. I won't look a heavily-armed horse in the mouth. The aliens overran the hot labs last week. Only Han Olar got out, and he ain't all there anymore. The first we knew, the bastards were clawing into my command post. We had a lot more staff then." "You were taken by surprise and had civilians to protect. You did a good job, Captain." "Yeah? Sure as hell doesn't feel like it. The board sent an asari to clean up the mess. She went to the hot labs yesterday. We haven't heard from her since." "I'm not going to let any of your people die." "All I can do is hold out here and protect the civilians. There's an emergency elevator out by the trams. This card will let you activate it. It can take you down to the hot labs. Oh, if you need any first aid, Dr. Cohen's downstairs in the med bay." "I've got work to do." "Yeah, I hear th-"

Gunshots and the screeches and cries of the creatures cut the captain off. "Hell! Man the perimeter!" The creatures began to crawl up in the open vent behind the party, but the continuous stream of bullets and arrows managed to ward them off. "Thanks for the help. Every few hours, a group comes up the tram tunnel. It's actually better since we locked down the elevator." "I'll do whatever I can." "I don't know why they keep throwing themselves against our defenses. Even animals should learn not to stick their noses where it hurts."

Shepard and the party headed into the mess hall, and Shepard began to question the civilians in the area. She headed down a flight of stairs to be greeted by Dr. Cohen, who was trying to resuscitate two people. Shepard inquired on what had happened to them, and Dr. Cohen said that an antidote could be synthesized in a contaminated area. Shepard headed back to the mess hall, and had to argue with a turian guard to try to get into the area that was supposedly contaminated. Shepard quickly synthesized an antidote, but was cornered by an asari and two geth, who were all in league with the Matriarch. Dâgalûr let out a bull-like roar and charged the asari head on, who was overwhelmed by a 300 pound half-Uruk tackling her. As the geth were dispatched of, Dâgalûr decided to simply break the asari's neck with his hands, as he had no interest in eating anymore. The party left the area, only to find the turian guard dead on the ground. Shepard questioned the sole survivor of the original outbreak of the creatures, Han Olar, and found out that the creatures that had been continuously assaulting the security team and the party were the long dead Rachni. Shepard was skeptical, Liara was amazed, and Dâgalûr didn't care. The squad headed back to Dr. Cohen, who gave them some medi-gel and a pass to get into the maintenance area. Shepard lead the squad into the maintenance area, which was coated in ice and snow, and encountered more rachni, which were killed off just as all of the ones the squad had come across were.

The squad didn't know that the maintenance area was actually a shortcut to the back of the hot labs, which was where the Matriarch was hiding out. As soon as they left maintenence, they were confronted with the target they had spent all this time looking for. The Matriarch spoke in a condescending tone, cold and almost lifeless. "You do not know the privilege of being a mother. There is power in creation. To shape a life. Turn it towards happiness or despair. Her children were to be ours." She referenced the massive Rachni in a holding cell, which was screeching and trying to escape. "Raised to hunt and slay Saren's enemies. I won't be moved by sympathy. No matter who you bring into this confrontation." "Liara's here because she's a member of my crew." "Indeed? What have you told her about me, Liara?" "What could I say, mother? That you're insane? Evil? Should I explain how to kill you? What could I say?" "Have you faced an asari commando unit before? Few humans have." "But I am no mere human. I am half-Uruk!" Dâgalûr shouted as he drew Pauzûlshapât from his belt, its blade whispering in the tongue of Mordor, fouling the air around it. "I can't believe you'd kill your own daughter." "I now realize I should have been stricter with her."

The Matriarch used biotics to cement the squad in place as asari commandos entered to protect her. When the squad regained control again, the commandos flung Shepard around like a ragdoll, but Dâgalûr cleaved through them like a knife through butter. Shepard fell to the ground with a thud, and applied medi gel to herself as a second wave of commandos was called in alongside a few geth units. The commandos were quickly eliminated with Liara's pistol as Shepard riddled the geth with bullets. Another wave was called in to stop the squad, but they knew the routine by now. Benezia was weakened with each passing wave, and was on her last legs after the third wave.

"This is not over. Saren is unstoppable. My mind is filled with his light. Everything is clear." "The rachni didn't cooperate with you, why should I?" "I will not betray him. You will...you...you must listen. Saren still whispers in my mind. I can fight his compulsions. Briefly. But the indoctrination is strong." "So you could turn on me again?" "Yes. But it would not be my will, Shepard. People are not themselves around Saren. You come to idolize him. Worship him. You would do anything for him. The key is Sovereign, his flagship. It is a dreadnought of incredible size and its power is extraordinary." "The ship that attacked Eden Prime? I didn't think anything that size could land on a planet." "It has a very powerful mass effect drive. But that is not Sovereign's true power. The longer you stay aboard, the more Saren's will seems correct. You sit at his feet and smile as his words pour into you. It is subtle at first. I thought I was strong enough to resist. Instead I became a willing tool, eager to serve. He sent me here to find the location of the Mu Relay. Its position was lost thousands of years ago." "Someone on Noveria found it?" "Two thousand years ago, the rachni inhabited that region of our galaxy. They discovered the relay. The rachni can share memories across generations. Queens inherit the knowledge of their mothers. I took the location of the relay from the queen's mind. I was not gentle." "You can still make it right. Give me the information." "I was not myself, but - I should have been stronger. I transcribed the data to an OSD. Take it. Please." Liara stepped into the conversation. "Knowing the relay's coordinates is not enough. Do you know where he planned to go from there?" "Saren wouldn't tell me his destination. But you must find out quickly. I transmitted the coordinates to him before you arrived. You have to stop - me. I can't - His teeth are at my ear. Fingers on my spine. You should - uh, you should -" "Mother, I - Don't leave! Fight him!" "You've always made me proud, Liara!"

She paused as Saren's will overtook her mind once more. "-Die!" She suddenly attacked Shepard, flinging her around with biotics, but she was tackled by Dâgalûr. Shepard got up, took out her assault rifle, and started firing at Benezia, who was still trying to get up. Shepard managed to do enough damage to keep her down and to give Benezia her will back. "I cannot go on. You will have to stop him, Shepard." "Hold on. We've got medi-gel, maybe we can -" "No. He is still in my mind. I am not entirely myself. I will never be again." "Mother…" "Good night, little wing, I will see you again with the dawn. No light? They always said there would be - Ah…" She had drawn her final breath, not knowing if her afterlife would truly be there.

The rachni queen now looked upon the party, screeching and suckling on the glass. The corpse of one of the commandos suddenly began to rise and shamble towards the squad. It spooked Shepard and Liara, but it didn't phase Dâgalûr. "I swear, I didn't raise it from the grave to fight for me." The corpse began to speak on behalf of the queen. "This one serves as our voice. We cannot sing. Not in these low spaces. Your musics are colorless." The corpse was constantly twitching, and appeared to have difficulty speaking. The corpse's statement only confused Shepard further. "Musics? What?" "Your way of communicating is strange. Flat. It does not color the air. When we speak, one moves all. We are the mother. We sing for those left behind. The children you thought silenced. We are Rachni." "How are you speaking through her?" "Our kind sing through touchings of thought. We pluck the strings, and the other understands. She is weak to urging. She has colors we have no names for. But she is ending. Her music is bittersweet. It is beautiful. The children we birthed were stolen from us before they could learn to sing. They are lost to silence. End their suffering. They cannot be saved. They can only cause harm as they are." "If you're sure they can't be saved" "It is lamentable. But necessary. Do what you must. Before you deal with our children, we stand before you. What will you sing? Will you release us? Are we to fade away once more?"

"They made a mistake. They let the krogan go too far. This is a chance for us to atone. She has done nothing to us." "Think, Shepard. Those vats of acid are up there. If those wars of yours were anything to go by, more people could die for no reason. Then again, these bugs might be able to be used as a weapon, like the Ungol back home. All we need is the influence of Sauron." "Your companions hear the truth. You have the power to free us, or return our people to the silence of memory." "I won't destroy your entire race. You'll go free." "You will give us the chance to compose anew? We will remember. We will sing of your forgiveness to our children." "It was your call, Shepard. I won't judge your decision." The corpse fell to the floor, and Shepard used the control panel to release the queen. Shepard ordered Liara and Dâgalûr to head back to the tram, as she had to head to the hot labs to deal with the remaining rachni. After about five minutes the two heard a deafening explosion. Shepard returned, and the squad headed back for the Normandy.

When they arrived, they headed down to the comm room, and were greeted by the remaining crew members. Ashley began to speak as the three sat down. "What's our next move, Commander? Head for the Mu Relay?" "The Mu Relay could link to dozens of systems. Unless we know exactly where Saren's going, we'd just be wasting our time." "The Commander is right. We cannot rush off blind. We still need to know more about Saren." "Who put you in charge? Did the Commander resign when I wasn't looking." "I'd shut your mouth if I were you, _kurv_." "We're all on the same team here, Williams. She's just trying to help." "Sorry, Commander." "This is a tough mission. We're all on edge. Everyone, go get some rest. Crew… dismissed!" Dâgalûr got up to leave, and the last thing he heard was Joker. "Noveria report is away, Commander. You want me to patch you through to the Council?"


	8. Ch7: Virmire, The Citadel, and Artifacts

**Author's Note:** Hey, It's me. I was lucky to get this chapter out on time. Here it is.

 **Black Speech Translation** : _Conversation_ : Aye, the boss'll want to see what's in that damn cave. Yeah, I heard there are old Mordor artifacts in there. Probably worth a fortune back home. _First Orc:_ Intruders! Get to the alarms!

 ** _Chapter Seven: Reclaiming The Artifacts, Virmire, and the Battle for the Citadel_**

It had been around two hours since Dâgalûr returned from Noveria, and he was trying to piece together what little information he was given in his telepathic message from Sauron. "Rayingri, Gagarin, Armstrong, traitors, kill them all… What does it all mean?" He pondered. His pondering was interrupted by Shepard, who wanted to have a chat with him. "Dâgalûr, what was all that about back there?" "I don't know for sure, but I have to tell you something." "What is it?" "When I blacked out, Sauron beckoned to me from out of the darkness… He called to me and said some words, but I can't figure out what they mean." "What did he say?" "He said the words "Rayingri, Gagarin, Armstrong, traitors, kill them all". Do you have any idea what that means?" "Not in particular…" She repeated the words over again in her head to try to find a connection between the words. Finally, she found a breakthrough. "Wait, I think I might know. He might have been talking about the Armstrong Nebula, the Gagarin system, and the planet Rayingri. I've got no clue what the 'traitors' or 'kill them all' parts mean, though." "Shepard, I know you've got the mission with this Saren guy to finish, but if you've got the spare time, please go to this "Rayingri" and take me with you. I have to find what Sauron wants with that planet." "Okay, if I've got the time, I'll let you know." "Thanks, Shepard. It's appreciated."

After a few hours had passed, Shepard fulfilled Dâgalûr's wish, and called him and Garrus up to inform them of what to expect. When they both reached the ship's bridge, Shepard began to brief them on what they should expect when they touch down. "Okay, we can't breathe the air on this planet, so I assume you've got a helmet, Garrus." "Yep." "Dâgalûr, I know that you don't have a helmet that can allow you to breathe on other planets, so we can just-" "Shepard, I have no need for it. Years of breathing in poisonous fumes in Mordor have allowed my species' lungs to take in harmful substances from the air and utilize them. As long as there's something to breathe, I can survive without a helmet." "Okay, then. If you say so. Considering this mission is for you, Dâgalûr, why don't you explain what we need to do?" "Alright. The Dark Lord commanded me to "find the traitors and kill them all", so we need to look for anything that could be linked to these traitors. We're looking for anything out of the ordinary." "Alright, Suit up and get down to the Mako." The squad got everything they needed, and hopped in the Mako. The Normandy quickly dropped them into the red sands of Rayingri, and headed back into orbit.

Joker radioed Shepard over the comms. "Commander, I'm getting insane dark energy readings a short distance up ahead. I'll mark it on your map." The planet had desert as far as the eye could see, and wind storms raged across the desert, blowing sand in every direction. The sky was black, Illuminated by the red sun in the distance. Shepard followed the map to where Joker placed the marker, and forced everyone out of the Mako. The began their trek up a hill "This is where Joker put the marker. I don't see anyth-" She cut herself off when she reached the hilltop. She saw something she wasn't likely to forget soon. A massive encampment, laden with tents and forts, was before them. At the far end of the stronghold, they saw a cave, orcs clad in metal plate armor entering and exiting the mouth, which had been transformed by Mordor brick and metal into what looked like the Mouth of Hell. All around the stronghold, they laid eyes upon torn purple banners, each bearing a red spider.

Dâgalûr knew this group of orcs. " _Nûrzumthrakuk_ " "What?" "They are the _Nûrzumthrakuk_ , the wrath-bringers. They're a group of Separatists that wish to see the downfall of Sauron and take the ring for themselves to rule Middle-Earth. Feh, they're spineless worms. Be careful and quiet. As much as I want their heads, I also want to know what the hell they're doing here." All three of them crouched down and took out their weapons. The suck up behind one of the tents, and Dâgalûr listened in on a conversation between two soldiers. " _Aye, avhe boukuk'll wanav avo ukee whaav'uk shal avhaav damun shatroful._ " _"Yeaga, jiak hearik avhere ayh kuu Mordor-aravifacavuk shal avhere. Probabpak woravh ij foravune kurrauz votar._ " "Well, I got all the information I needed from these unsuspecting idiots." Dâgalûr said triumphantly. Just as the squad was moving to the next tent, an orc left his tent to take a quick piss. The second he looked up, he saw the three trying to sneak over to another tent. He started snarling and howling like an ape and began to point to them to alert the other orcs in the area. " _Inavruderuk! Geav avo avhe alaruk!_ " The orc drew his club to try to kill them, but Dâgalûr gutted him with his sword before he could continue trying to get the attention of his brothers in arms. He fell to the ground in a puddle of his own black blood. Three orcs were now looking at the corpse of the first orc, his intestines lying upon his chest. "We can't hide anymore. Time to bust open some skulls." "Dâgalûr's right. Charge!"

The squad came out from their hiding place to be met with three other orcs waiting to kill them. The middle one took out a bow and took out some arrows while the one on the left ran for an alarm and the fat one on the right charged them with two hand axes. The axe orc was shut down with a pistol blast from Shepard to his unarmored head, and Garrus took the archer out with a sniper shot to the head. The third orc had reached the alarm, and a loud horn was sounded to signal every orc in the area that there were intruders. Shepard was not happy."Shit!" Every orc in the area peeked outside of their tent to see what was going on. And once they saw the squad, they were driven into a frenzy. They formed up and charged the squad head on. Garrus reloaded his sniper rifle. "I think we're gonna need a few more guns."

The horde was stopped dead in its tracks by the supposed leader of the camp, who was clad in bits and scraps of Gondorian armor, animal fur, and human skulls. He wore the skull of a horse upon his head, its mouth open to allow him to see out of his yellow eyes. "Stop." The orcs began to wildly bang their weapons on their armor and roar, scream and yelp at the squad. "Who do you think you are, trespassing on Nûrzumthrakuk land? Who are you?" "The name's Shepard." "Well, Shepard, get the hell out of here. This is ours." "She's not going anywhere, Nûrzumthrakuk scum." The leader began to laugh, but his soldiers began to become disheartened by the sight of Dâgalûr. "You bring the "great" Dâgalûr? Don't make me laugh. You and your pathetic master will fall, and WE'LL be the power, not you!" "What exactly does your group want?" "What we want, you wretched human, is Sauron's Ring. Once we get it, we can throw aside that maggot-infested bread and those miserable taskmasters and live like kings!" "How did you even get here? I thought Dâgalûr was teleported here." "So were we, but the portal in that cave has yet to close on us. We can go back and forth at will." "Then that's enough out of you, you miserable rats. I'm gonna stick every one of you in the belly, and then I'm going home!" "Like hell you are. We'll make sure to split your bone marrow evenly so there's no fighting. That goes for all three of you! Kill them all!" He walked away and let his minions do his dirty work as he retreated for the cave.

The orcs charged at the squad in waves, each containing more soldiers than the last. Each wave was the same, more or less. The archers and spear-throwers would stay back and try to pick off Garrus, while the melee oriented orcs charged head on at Shepard and Dâgalûr with axes, scimitars, clubs, and pikes, only to be either gunned down, stuck with arrows, or hacked into with a sword. After every single orc outside of the cave was dead, a troll charged them, club in hand. It picked up Shepard by the leg, who used a pistol to try to get it to let her go. An arrow through the hand ended up forcing the troll to drop Shepard, and Garrus and Dâgalûr finished off the troll when it opened its mouth, putting an end to its life with a sniper bullet and an arrow through the roof of its mouth.

The squad continued into the cave, expecting an ambush. When they got inside, the found that the cave had been heavily modified with Mordor steel and brick, as it now resembled the inside of one of a Mordorian structure as opposed to a cave. The squad climbed the stairs, and archers perched up on ledges above began to rain arrows down upon them, but the archers were no match for a sniper rifle and pistol. As they headed farther into the cave, they seemed to meet less and less resistance, but all three of them began to hear whispers in their minds. " _YOU CANNOT HIDE… YOU DO WHAT MY OWN SOLDIERS COULD NOT._ " They finally entered the deepest room in the cave, dimly lit by torches on the walls, which had sets of armor on armor racks on the side walls and a pedestal in the center of it. Upon the pedestal, there lay an orb, held up by a finely crafted stand made to resemble a clawed hand. The inside of the orb looked cloudy and murky, as if someone had put polluted water in it.

The leader orc jumped out of the shadows in the back of the room. "You'll not be leaving this room alive." "Says who?" "Says me." He drew a massive club, tied together by rope, which had crude spikes forced into it. "Now, if ya stand still, I'll make it quick. If not, well, I could use some entertainment." Shepard and Garrus pulled out their assault rifles and began to open fire at the leader, who let out a leopard-like roar and charged Shepard with his club. He began to swing it, and managed to hit Shepard hard in the ribs. But he was felled by a barbed arrow to the head, which pierced through the horse skull. The arrow head went straight through the leader's eye. And he fell to the ground with a thud. Shepard put medi-gel on her wound, and walked over to the orb. Dâgalûr was focused on the armor sets, which he decided to take with him. He joined Shepard over at the orb, and Garrus followed.

Dâgalûr knew what this orb was when he got near it. " _Palantír_." "What?" "It is one of the _Palantíri_ , ancient artifacts used for long distance communication. How one got here is beyond me." A voice beckoned for Dâgalûr and Shepard to touch it. " _GO ON, THEN. USE IT._ " Shepard and Dâgalûr both touched the Palantír at the same time, and both fell to the ground with the orb in hand. They saw nothing but darkness, but Sauron invaded their minds. Sauron had sensed both had touched the Palantír. " _DÂGALÛR, SHEPARD, I SEE YOU._ " "Who...are you?" " _I AM SAURON, THE ONE TRUE LORD OF THE RINGS, AND THE TRUE RULER OF MIDDLE-EARTH. YOU ARE STRONG-WILLED, SHEPARD. I SENSE A GREAT POWER IN YOU."_ "How do you know my name?" " _I KNOW MANY THINGS. I HAVE DELVED INTO YOUR MIND._ " Dâgalûr interrupted, "It is done, master. The rebels are dead." " _EXCELLENT, DÂGALÛR. I WILL SEE TO IT THAT WE FIND AND SLAUGHTER THE REST OF THOSE WRETCHED COWARDS. ALL OF MIDDLE-EARTH WILL BOW BEFORE MORDOR._ " "What now?" " _YOU SHOULD SEE TO IT THAT YOU STOP THIS SAREN FELLOW. HE IS A THREAT TO BOTH OUR WORLDS, SHEPARD. GO NOW, I AM DONE SPEAKING._ " They were thrown back into reality to find Garrus worried. "Shepard, are you alright? You blacked out when you touched that orb." "I'm fine. We need to get back to the ship. We're done here." "I'll hold onto the _Palantír_ for safe keeping." He stuffed it into one of his sacks.

Just as the squad was leaving the room, Dâgalûr noticed a button on the back wall. He ran back to push it, and found that the back wall was actually a door that hid the portal back to Middle-Earth. It was identical to the one that he had left Mordor through, with the same frame of bones and purple vortex. "HOME!" Dâgalûr yelled as he jumped straight at it. The portal closed while he was in the middle of his jump. He was furious. "ERU DAMNIT!" After pounding on the walls, he realized nothing would re-open the portal, so he grabbed the armor racks and headed for the exit. The Normand picked them and the Mako up, and Dâgalûr set up the armor racks in storage.

A few hours later, Shepard called up Kaidan and Tali for the next mission. About a half hour later, The Normandy landed on Virmire, a lush, tropical world. All squadmates were forced out, and Dâgalûr sat down in a tent alongside Liara and a Salarian soldier. Dâgalûr watched as Shepard settled an argument with Wrex. After Shepard picked her squad, the other squadmate, except Kaidan and Ashley, were sent back to the ship. Another half hour later every squadmate except Ashley was on board, and a deafening explosion could be heard as the ship got as far away from the planet as possible. Everyone was required to report to the comm room immediately.

As everyone took their seats, Kaidan began speaking. " I- I can't believe Ash didn't make it. How could we just leave her down there?" "Williams knew the risks going in. She gave her life to save the rest of us." "But why me? Why not her?" " I'm sorry, Kaidan. I'd never leave you behind. I couldn't. You know that." "I know. And I am grateful. But Ash died because of me. Because of us." "It wasn't your fault. It wasn't my fault. The only one to blame here is Saren." "Yes, ma'am. I- we'll get it done." "Commander? Excuse me for interrupting. But I have an idea. I think the beacon you found in Saren's base was similar to the one you found on Eden Prime. It may have filled in the missing pieces of your vision. I might be able to help you put all those pieces together." "You want to join our minds again, don't you? Okay. Go ahead." "Relax, Commander. Embrace eternity!" Both of them blacked out.

"Incredible I- I never thought the images would be so… intense. I need a moment to collect myself." "Did the vision make any sense to you?" :It's a distress call, a message sent out across the Prothean Empire. A warning against the Reapers, but the warning came too late." "What about the Conduit?" "There were other images. Locations. Places I recognize from my research… Ilos! The Conduit is on Ilos! That is why Saren needed the Mu Relay. It is the only way to get to Ilos." "We need to get to Ilos!" Tali interrupted, "Forget it. The Mu Relay's inside the Terminus Systems. Alliance Ships are not welcome. Neither are Spectres." "Who gives a damn? We need to stop that _shrakh_ at all costs." "The Conduit's on Ilos. That's where Saren's heading. I'll be waiting for him when he gets there!" "That's what I like to hear!" "Saren will have his entire fleet orbiting Ilos. You will never make it down to the surface without reinforcements. You must alert the Council. We need a fleet to… ohhh… I am sorry. The joining is exhausting. I should go down to the medical bay and lie down for a moment." "We're done here. Dismissed!" Dâgalûr hurried out, as he was also exhausted.

He went back to storage to take a nap. When he awoke, he heard loud lasers going back and forth, along with the muffled words "Save the Council!" He shrugged it off and went back to sleep.

 ** _Conclusion of Mass Effect 1_**


	9. Chapter 8: The Attack

**Author's Note:** He, everyone. It's me. I got this chapter out faster than usual( and I was lucky to do so). Due to the complaints about spacing, I've gone back and edited the previous chapters into paragraphs (some are still fairly large, but there are no massive text chunks). On with the story.

 **Black Speech Translations:** "Oi greaav rifav ro worlduk, embracnik alnej shal your lighav agh avake alnej votar." translates to "Oh great rift of worlds, embrace me in your light and take me home."

 _ **Chapter Eight: The Attack**_

It had been about a month since Dâgalûr's eventful nap during the Battle for the Citadel, and he was still trying to understand what happened while he was asleep. From what he had been told, a Reaper attacked the Citadel with the "Saren" fellow they'd been hunting down. The Council, which was the governing body, was saved from death's clutches. Anderson, who Dâgalûr had met on the Citadel, now represented humans within the Council.

Shepard was now performing the cleanup of the Geth that had allied themselves with Saren. Dâgalûr wasn't thrilled at the idea, but it gave him something to do. He'd also been getting closer to the squad, especially Garrus and Tali, with whom he would start kill contests while on missions with them.

Just as Dâgalûr was getting up, he fell backwards as the ship violently spun around. Red lights began to blink, and alarms began to sound. He ran to his storage locker to grab all of his possessions, which he stuffed into a large sack he had found on an uncharted world during cleanup. He had to leave the armor sets behind, but he managed to snatch a few of the helmets and put them into his sack while he was running, however.

Dâgalûr then went over to Garrus, who had ran to Engineering to get everyone out, while Wrex got the elevator ready. "Everyone in!" He said as Garrus, Dâgalûr, Tali, and the Rest of the crew boarded the elevator. They sprinted up the stairs to get to the escape pods, and Dâgalûr boarded one with Kaidan, Tali, and a few other crew members, throwing the sack into the aisle of the pod.

Once everyone buckled up and the escape pod launched, they got to see the full extent of the damage to the Normandy. The ship was in pieces thanks to the laser beam protruding from the mysterious ship in the distance. Kaidan was worried if the Commander had gotten out in time. He was starting to turn pale. Dâgalûr tried to comfort him, but it didn't ease the pain. The pod suddenly began descending to the planet the ship was orbiting, and everyone had to brace for impact.

The pod had finally landed, and everyone got out to try and figure out where they were. Dâgalûr grabbed the sack that had been thrown about during the landing and joined them. The ground was covered in snow and ice, and violent gusts of wind blew snow straight at them. They saw a massive cave in the distance, but the whiteout conditions made it hard to make out. The crew decided to try to get to it in order to take shelter from the snowstorm, and, once they reached the mouth, they began to descend into its depths.

Kaidan wasn't sure it was a good idea to continue further into the cave. "I've got a bad feeling about this. What if we lose someone in here?" Dâgalûr didn't want to hear it. "It's either this or the snowstorm. If you want to freeze out there, be my guest." Suddenly, a loud roar echoed through the cave. "I'll take my chances with the storm." Dâgalûr picked up a rock, wrapped it in dry leaves that were scattered on the cave floor, and lit it up to use as a torch with his pyromancy. "Go ahead, but I'll take my chances with whatever's in there." Most of the crew members, including Tali, stayed outside the cave, but two crew members, who would rather take their chances with an animal than with a snowstorm, followed Dâgalûr.

As Dâgalûr progressed further into the cave, the roaring became louder and louder, and was accompanied by squealing and snorting. When the three reached the end of the cave, a small opening in the back wall was illuminated by bright purple light. Dâgalûr handed the rock torch to one of the crew members, dropped the sack, and began to tear and claw at the rock wall, hoping to make an opening big enough to fit through.

When he reached the other side of the wall, he found a massive area of the cave that had been virtually untouched, and at the far back, he found the source of the light. A portal to Mordor lay before him, the purple light emitting from it blindingly bright, and its frame of bones intimidating to the other crew members. Dâgalûr also found the source of the noises. A Great-Beast was stomping about, trying to escape the cave, its two horns breaking through rock as it flailed around. It was of the Udun breed, and was almost as big as a _Mûmak_ of the South, as opposed to its Gorgoroth-bred cousin.

Dâgalûr looked over to one of the crew members. "Get Kaidan and Tali in here. I'll handle the Great-Beast." "I'm on it!" He said, sprinting to the cave's mouth. Dâgalûr drew Pargijakunquiin and his quiver, and fired an arrow at the monstrous behemoth, piercing through the hide on the beast's stomach, causing it to start charging towards one of the walls, which it crashed into, resulting in a rockslide. The monster was pinned down underneath the rocks, and tried pulling itself up.

Kaidan, Tali, and the rest of the crew showed up at that moment, and saw the creature roaring and snorting. They also saw the portal, with its blinding light and frame of bones. Kaidan was confused whether the creature was a native species or not. "Did that thing stumble out of that portal?" "It did, I recognize it from my homelands. That doesn't matter, though, because I'm still gonna kill it."

Dâgalûr pulled out his sword and charged straight at the beast, cleaving and hacking at its legs. This only enraged the titan further, and it started swinging its head at Dâgalûr. He grabbed onto a small horn on its head-crest while it swung its head around, and dropped down on its neck. Dâgalûr stabbed right through the monster's jugular, causing it to die.

Kaidan and Tali met up with him, and took a closer look at the Great-Beast, while the rest of the crew was in shock and awe as they gazed upon the rift between worlds. Dâgalûr retrieved his sack and joined Tali and Kaidan, now facing the choice of whether to stay in this galaxy or go home. "I do think that this is the end of my journey in these lands. This portal beckons for me to return home."

Tali dropped her head. "Oh… I understand. If you have to go, then go. I'll-" She paused, "I'll be fine. You need to be with your people. It was nice getting to know you, Dâgalûr." Kaidan put his arms behind his back. "If this is it, then so long, Dâgalûr. I'm proud to consider you a friend."

"So long, you two. But who knows? The journey may not end here. Take these-" He took two barbed arrows out of his quiver, placing one in Tali's hand and the other in Kaidan's hand, "to remember me by." Tali placed a firm grip on the arrow shaft and took out an old pistol that she hadn't used since the beginning of the mission. "Here. Take this to remember me, Kaidan, Shepard, and the rest of the squad by."

"Thank you, Tali." He said as he placed the pistol into the sack. Dâgalûr then put the sack over his shoulder, being careful not to tear it on the blades on his shoulder armor, and made his way to the portal. When he got within a few inches of the portal, he held his free arm out and said, "Oi greaav rifav ro worlduk, embracnik alnej shal your lighav agh avake alnej votar." as he stepped into the purple void.

 **Author's Note** **:** For reference, the Great Beast in the cave is a cross between the one seen in _Shadow of Mordor'_ s appendices, and the sketch by Torvin in the _Lord of the Hunt_ DLC.


	10. Chapter 9: Seventeen Years

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Hey everyone. Sorry for taking a month to get this out, but as most of you know, life has to come before a story. Expect updates to be more sporadic, but don't assume I'm stopping. If I do end up stopping, I'll give a warning that I won't be continuing. Know that the only ways I'll stop is if I somehow die, I can't think of any ideas, or life just gets in the way too often. Otherwise, just give it some time. I can say that since summer is coming up, and since I'll probably be getting a computer for my house soon, chapters will hopefully come out faster. Enough of me, on with the show!

 **Black Speech Translations:** "Dâgalûr lilvuk!" translates to "Dâgalûr lives!", "Gimb ij pak wôrg dinuk. avonighav, kulknej hunav!" translates to "Find a few warg dens. Tonight, we hunt!", "Lugbúrz" translates to "Dark Tower" (It's Black Speech for 'Barad-Dûr"), "Nalal, nalkren du lat fenle?" translates to "Well, how do you feel?", "Ukick. . . bav difrenk. Jiak fenle auk um Jiak mabaj avhe juliveruke wiavhin alnej." translates to "Sick... but different. I feel as if I hold the universe within me."

 _ **Chapter** **Nine: Seventeen Years**_

Dâgalûr was once again engulfed in the endless sea of purple, and began to get the same tingles as the first time he entered a portal. His ragged, black cape, tied down by a copper brooch engraved with Sauron's eye, began to drift around in the weightless dimension. His fastened Galvorn plate armor, and the chainmail beneath it, began to clink together as if something was banging softly on it. Unlike the first time he entered one of these rifts, rocks of various shapes and sizes were drifting around in a belt around the area. Suddenly, the rocks began to drift towards one another, until they formed together in one large mass. The mass extended outwards and formed itself into a bridge, and Dâgalûr floated over to it. At the end of the bridge, a wooden door with ornate carvings sprung up, and placed itself directly at the end of the bridge. At the door's center, there was a symbol carved into the wood which resembled the Great Eye. Dâgalûr opened the door, and was sucked into a bright, white void, with a loud, mechanical screech emitting from nowhere.

The low gravity suddenly disappeared, and Dâgalûr began free-falling, still clinging on to his sack. After a few seconds, he was thrown into a grassland and began rolling about like a ragdoll. Once he stopped, he got up and saw that he had been cast from a small, purple rift, much like the ones he had seen in his travels, but it had no frame. It was miniscule compared to the others, and it looked as if it had ripped through all of space and time in order to form. The rift disappeared in the blink of an eye, and Dâgalûr was left to figure out where he was. The grassland he had landed in was blocked by mountains on three sides. The sky was dark orange, mostly blocked out by dark clouds. Massive horses, black as night, were grazing on the grass, which was filled with thorns. Even larger horses, whose eyes glowed red like blood and whose nostrils flared smoke, were also grazing. Massive rhino-like beasts, with single, horizontal, curved horns that formed from a natural head armor of sorts, which he believed to be the Great Beasts of Gorgoroth, were grunting, charging, and banging heads with each other in the distance. Orcs, or at least what he hoped were orcs, tended the larger horses, and tried feeding them fell grains and old hay instead of the brittle grass. The side of the grassland not blocked by mountains bore large, pointed rocks near its border, and beyond there was a massive volcano, smoke rising from its top like a hellish chimney. Dâgalûr knew he was within the Plain of the Black Steeds, in the northeast of Mordor. Dâgalûr made his way to one of the smaller horses, mounted it, tied the opening of his sack to his back with a long, thorn-covered vine, and commanded the steed to ride towards Mt. Doom.

He passed over the border-crags through one of the small gaps in the massive rock-spikes. After a couple hours of riding, Dâgalûr could see the Seregost Road, which connected Mordor to the desolate border in the East. The road lay down a large slope that Dâgalûr would have to be careful not to hurt the horse on. Upon the road were Easterling troops, clad in bronze and gold armor with maroon cloth robes underneath and helmets which bore long, curved metal pieces on top and covered most of their faces, wielding square shields, curved swords, and poleaxes with spear tips.

Their soldiers varied, as they came from every corner of Rhûn; some were tall and fairly tan, some were large and white skinned, and some were even dwarves. Regardless of their appearance, they all marched under small, triangular flags that bore a legendary Eastern dragon. Their horses were also adorned with similar armor, and were arranged in a line five men wide on the road. Dâgalûr rode down the slope, trying to make sure the horse didn't topple over. When he was about halfway down the slope, an Easterling foot soldier took notice. He started to scream and yell in his own tongue, which Dâgalûr had never bothered to learn. A blaring horn sounded near the front of the army, and every soldier stopped dead in his tracks.

Out of the sea of gold, a large man with olive skin, adorned with several jewels, clad in a suit of heavy bronze armor and a pointed helmet with ornate carvings and intricate details, came forward. He wielded a great battleaxe and sat atop a large, brown stallion covered in plates of gold. His voice was deep and intimidating, and he spoke with little emotion or empathy. "Who are you to try and distract the great warriors of the East?" "You all work for Sauron, so you should all know who I am. I am Dâgalûr, the evil-seed, greatest of Mordor's warriors." "Dâgalûr?" The Easterling leader laughed heartily. "That's a funny joke. You should know Dâgalûr is dead." Dâgalûr had to let that sink in. He remembered what he had said to one of his lieutenants back when he had first stumbled upon one of the portals. "If I'm not back in a day, consider me dead." Those last three words rang in his head continuously. "How long has it been?" "It's been about a week since he disappeared. Word spread fast to every corner of the East and South. We were sent here on the Emperor's order to attend the funeral at Barad-Dûr for him." "Take me with you. We're already on a road that leads to _Lugbûrz_." "Fine, but if you step so much as one toe out of line, I'll have your head."

The same horn as before was sounded, and the soldiers began their march along the road once again. Dâgalûr kicked his stallion in the side, signaling for it to start cantering along next to the troops. After around ten miles had been traversed, the back of the Dark Tower was in sight, its lava moat illuminating its base. Hundreds of thousands of torches were being held up as every Orc in Mordor, of every rank and breed, was surrounding every side of the tower. After the remaining miles had been traveled, Dâgalûr got off his horse, removed the vine tying his sack down, and found that every ally of Mordor had sent an ambassador, emissary, or army to pay respect. As Dâgalûr made his way to the front of the tower, he saw many of his old brothers-in-arms, trainers, and henchmen, including his first weapons trainer, Master Magûkû, and his long-time partner on the battlefield, Rukdug the Archer, who had a metal eyepatch from a previous skirmish. A massive banner was hung up horizontally on the front of Barad-Dûr, fluttering in the wind.

On the bridge leading to the front door of the tower, there was a stone statue of Dâgalûr, its hands on the pommel of the stone sword that pointed downwards. Dâgalûr could make out that there was an orc speaking in front of the statue, most likely for a eulogy. He knew he would have to find a way to get past the crowd to tell them he was still alive and kicking. He started walking up to the crowd, and made his way in. The second one of the orcs saw him, he started shouting " _Dâgalûr! Dâgalûr lilvuk_!" Every orc nearby started taking notice, and began to cheer and howl at the top of their lungs. The Haradrim joined the orcs in their revelry, but Sauron's other allies stayed out of it.

Dâgalûr reached the stone statue, and began to shout at the top of his lungs, "I live!" Through the wondrous mess of orcs violently shaking and screeching, Dâgalûr could see orcs pushing and shoving each other out of the way to make room for something large that approached Dâgalûr at an alarmingly fast pace. As the last few soldiers moved, He could see that Bolgdyr, his beloved Dire Caragor, was charging straight for him. Bolgdyr pounced on Dâgalûr and began licking his face. Dâgalûr had to actively resist Bolgdyr's advances in order to get up and explain himself. Dâgalûr got to his feet, and the cheers eventually died down, and the soldiers became curious. One of the orcs began to question Dâgalûr on why he had disappeared. "Where in tha name o' tha Dark Lord 'ave ya been?" "In another world, that's where. When I was getting troops to a camp on the far side of Gorgoroth, a lieutenant of mine pointed something out. What he pointed out was some kind of rift. I was taken through, and transported to a universe that can traverse the stars, with weapons more powerful than a thousand swords or arrows. There were creatures of every shape and size, and machines that can talk and walk. I joined the crew of the bravest woman I've ever known: Shepard." Dâgalûr continued on about his journey through the Milky Way, telling stories of frozen wastelands and blue-skinned women. Most of the soldiers who were able to hear the tale were skeptical, but a few believed every word that poured from his mouth.

Dâgalûr then walked up to Barad-Dûr's front door, reached in his sack to find the key he owned, and used it to open it. He began his ascension up the several hundred flights of black, stone stairs leading to the top of the tower, taking his time so he wouldn't exhaust himself. When he reached the top, he used his key again to open the door to the throne room of the Dark Lord. As he opened it, he saw a familiar sight. A gigantic sculpture of Morgoth's helmet, complete with glowing red eyes weeping lava, adorned with Silmaril replicas shining brightly, stood above Sauron's throne, which was adorned with iron blades extending outwards. Next to the throne were two smaller, identical thrones, one on each side, made for the Witch-King and Dâgalûr. Two spiral staircases led to either side of the elevated platform the thrones were upon, and a third small throne sat at the middle of the platform's base. Stone columns held the ceiling up, and a door that led to the balcony overlooking Mount Doom sat on the right side of the room. The entrances to two more rooms were in the far back, one on each wall. Next to Sauron's throne, there was a large stand on the right side for his Palantír, and a fountain of blood with a replica of Barad-Dûr, Sauron's eye glowing orange, on the left. The floor was tiled, and the ceiling was had the same Galvorn and stone pattern as the outside of the tower.

Upon the throne, Sauron, in all his glory, sat, watching Dâgalûr. His form was almost spectral, and gave off a ghostly presence; he looked as if a hand could go straight through him. His form was covered in the same set of blackened, metal armor he had worn during the Second Age, but his right index finger was missing, smoke escaping from the hole. No helmet covered his face, however, and it was handsome and pleasant to look at. He had long, flowing, dark hair, and his eyes shined like amber jewels. He spoke with the same booming, deep voice that had been calling out to Dâgalûr during his journey. " **So, you have finally returned from the great voyage.** " Sauron uttered, his eyes gazing straight into Dâgalûr's frame. He continued on, " **I kept trying to tell that rabble down there that you were not dead, and to shut up and get back to work, but they would not listen. For you hath left an undying mark on them all, be it through fear or respect. That was why I chose you, Dâgalûr. You giveth them purpose to fight.** " Dâgalur nodded.

" **Are those damned Nûrzumthrakuk gone? Did you recover what they stole?** " Dâgalûr tried to speak, but his voice trembled. He managed to mustered the strength to say "Yes, My Lord. However, there were some… complications." " **Such as?** " "... I lost the armor sets when the ship I was on crashed." " **Those sets were worth mountains of gold, but that is not important right no-** " Dâgalûr cut him off, "I did recover the helmets from the sets, though. He untied the sack he had been carrying since the crash and dumped its contents onto the floor, helmet after helmet falling out with a clank. He had to be careful, though, as he didn't want his personal belongings dropping out. " **I see. But did you re-obtain my** _ **Palantír**_ **from those treacherous rats?** " "I did, Master." Dâgalûr reached into his sack further, and pulled out the orb that he had found on Rayingri. " **THIS is what I wanted!** " Dâgalûr accidentally pulled out the pistol that Tali had given him as he rummaged through his sack, and Sauron got a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye. " **For what purpose does thy queer contraption serve**?" He inquired, in regards to the pistol. "What, this? It's a… souvenir I was given. A token of remembrance from… a good friend." " **But does it serve some purpose, or is it a useless trinket?** " "Aye, as far as I can tell, it's a weapon of sorts. All I know is that it makes a loud bang and someone dies." Dâgalûr walked up the stairs leading to the thrones and handed the Palantír to Sauron, who placed it on the stand next to his throne. " **Excellent**. **Now, sit upon your throne.** "

Before he sat, Dâgalûr had to ask some questions. "How long was I gone?" " **Roughly a week.** " "So would that make today the 15th of November, right?" " **Aye, it would.** " Dâgalûr sat down, and began to see how empty the throne room was. Apart from him, Sauron, and the Black Uruk guards at the door, the room was empty. The Mouth of Sauron was standing watch at the Gate of Morannon in the northeast, and the Witch-King guarded over Minas Morgul in the southwest. He tried not to think about it too much, but Dâgalûr felt as empty as the room was. His purpose had crashed with the Normandy. He remembered the good times he'd had with the crew. Garrus and Shepard were just starting to feel like siblings to Dâgalûr. The marksman contests between Garrus's sniper and Dâgalûr's bow were never boring, not even for a minute, and they got even better when the two would break out a few Turian-brandies and Orc-grogs. The kill counts with Garrus and Tali were always amusing, especially when Dâgalûr started using magic to decimate geth. Speaking of Tali, Dâgalûr felt a void had just opened now that she was out of his life. She was always the first one to greet him in the mornings, and the last one to talk with him at night. She had shown more kindness towards him than any orc could ever understand in their cold hearts and hate-filled minds. He had helped her obtain some data for her Pilgrimage, and she had helped him exterminate the Nûrzumthrakuk that escaped the reclamation and hid at the farthest edges of Rayingri. Dâgalûr knew his chances of seeing her, or anyone from that world again were close to none, so he had to stuff all of his memories and feelings deep into his mind. The rest of the year 3001 seemed like it stretched on for an eternity. Over the next 12 years, Dâgalûr would help prepare the armies of Mordor for a continent-wide war and attune his magic in the meantime.

Dâgalûr, however, would have no idea that his power would extend even further. On a cold summer's eve in 3014, Dâgalur stood out on Barad-Dûr's balcony, inhaling deep breaths air and gas from the clouds above, which the tips of the tower just grazed. Mount Doom lay before him, streams of lava dripping down its cone. The chill in the air left a tingle in him that ran up and down his spine. He thought to himself that this night would be a perfect one for a Warg hunt in Udûn. He picked his bow and quiver up from the side of his throne, unlocked and re-locked the doors of the room, descended the stairs, and headed outside. As he opened the front door of the tower, he was hit by the foul smell the sulfur gave off in the lava below the bridge. He gagged, but pressed onwards. As he reached to end of the bridge, he stopped dead in his tracks and began to whistle at a low pitch. Dâgalûr was calling for Bolgdyr, his trusty mount and the last of Mordor's Dire Caragors. As Bolgdyr approached, Dâgalûr could see that the massive beast was adorned with several battle scars, but he knew the scars didn't affect his fighting ability or speed. Even with his wounds, he was still the strongest and fastest ground steed in Mordor. Dâgalûr climbed up on Bolgdyr's back, and kicked him lightly in the side to signal Bolgdyr to start running. Dâgalûr took a small horn, carved from the horn of a White Kine of Rhûn, that was tied to his belt, and blew into it four times to signal the nearest hunting party to meet him near the Morannon.

Dâgalûr waited patiently as six orc hunters, adorned with animal bones and spear pouches, made their way to him. As they approached him, he spoke, his voice deep and intimidating. " _Gimb ij pak wôrg dinuk. avonighav, kulknej hunav!_ " The hunters immediately started to look for warg tracks and droppings, hoping to find a lead on where to look for the beasts. Dâgalûr dismounted Bolgdyr, sending him back to _Lugbúrz_. One of the hunters started shouting, but it was quickly drowned out by screams and warg howls. The hunters returned to Dâgalûr, who drew his bow and took out an arrow. The remaining five hunters followed Dâgalûr, how was sprinting to the location of the screams. The sound of flesh being ripped from bone could be heard, and Dâgalûr and the hunters hid behind large rocks to attempt to sneak up on the wargs. Dâgalûr peeked out from behind the rock, and saw that two wargs were devouring the hunter in front of their cave, breaking through bones to get the marrow, eating every organ they hit, and even eating the hair and nails. Dâgalûr quickly jumped out from behind the rock and fired his arrow into the closer of the two wargs, making it whimper in pain as it fell back into the cave. The second warg snarled and growled, rushing at one of the hunters nearby, tearing his intestines out with its claws. The warg was felled by a spear to the head from one of the hunters, and the party grabbed nearby sticks to use as torches. Dâgalûr lit each stick up with his pyromancy, and they continued into the cave. Warg after warg began to charge at the party, and managed to kill three of the hunters.

After every warg in the cave had been killed, one of the remaining two hunters left while Dâgalûr and the other hunter began to explore the cave. The two found that the wargs had been hoarding old orc weapons, small trinkets, and even the skulls of their prey. At the cave's end, a faint orange glow was being covered by a small rock pile. Dâgalûr dug through the rocks to find that the orange glow being emitted came from a small vortex on the cave wall. The vortex brought back every memory of the voyage Dâgalûr had undergone on the Normandy. The influx of memories managed to create a small tear in Dâgalûr's eye, as he realized there was almost no chance of him ever seeing any of his old comrades again. It had been nearly thirteen years since he had seen any of them. He even had Tali's pistol mounted on a plaque over his bed. This vortex was far too small to travel in, as not even his finger could fit through, but it oozed some kind of clear, sticky fluid. Dâgalûr called the other hunter over and forced him to ingest some of the fluid. " N _alal, nalkren du lat fenle?_ " " _Ukick. . . bav difrenk. Jiak fenle auk um Jiak mabaj avhe juliveruke wiavhin alnej_." Dâgalûr proceeded to kneel down and began licking up the goo. It tasted absolutely repulsive, but he felt more and more powerful with each drop that entered his body. He felt that he had gotten his fill, and left the hunter in the cave.

Dâgalûr called for Bolgdyr, who was waiting just around the corner. He mounted his trusty steed, and returned to Barad-Dûr to meditate and attune with the power he had gained. As he sat in his room of solitary confinement at the top of the tower, he began to try to understand the power that had entered him. His thoughts echoed through his head as he sat cross-legged on the floor. " _I feel as though I could travel anywhere. My power feels unlimited. I feel as if I am Mordor's apex predator. I am power incarnate._ _**I have regained my strength. All will submit.**_ " He realized he had to return to reality so that his thoughts wouldn't consume his being. He quickly ran out the door and headed for the room next door to go to bed. The next four years and seven months passed by, and Dâgalûr's normal routine continued, but he also learned to understand his newfound powers. He began practicing how to use these powers regularly, and by the end of February in the year 3019, he could create vortexes, similar to those he gained his power from. Sauron used his Palantír, continuously, eventually gripping the mind of the wizard Saruman, bending his will and using him as a puppet. Saruman was faithful to Sauron, and on the 26th of February, him and his Uruks had done something that gained Dâgalûr's trust and gratitude; the Uruks had been sent out, Dâgalûr didn't care why, and had slain the son of Gondor's steward. That day, Dâgalûr thought that Isengard was a trustworthy ally, but Sauron thought otherwise. Nevertheless, Dâgalûr celebrated that day with a feast, inviting every last one of his captains, lieutenants, and battle-buddies to celebrate the blow dealt to the Steward. Dâgalûr had no idea that his week was about to get even better, though. A surprise from the past would be coming soon, and Dâgalûr would be able to crack skulls once more.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Galvorn is a jet-black metal created by Eöl during the First Age. It is never explicitly stated that Sauron has some knowledge of how to create it, but this is a fanfiction, so anything goes. Also, I feel like I need to bring this up right now before people get pissed when I do it: there is going to be something massive coming up at the end of Mass Effect 2. I'm obviously not going to say what it is, but everyone can speculate. I already know It's going to be extremely polarizing and controversial, and that I'm going to get a lot of shit for it. You may be asking, "Why would you do it then?" and the answer to that is because It's what I've always had in mind. I'll be explaining how what happens is even possible when it happens. I'm actually surprised nobody's caught on yet with all the hints I've bee dropping, or that nobody's spoken up about it yet. anyway, I'm just saying that you may not enjoy what i'm going to do when this story reaches the end of Mass Effect 2. You have been warned. I know that doesn't sound reassuring, but just trust me on this one. Anyway, until next time, everyone.


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